Within Sight
by Anotherjaneway
Summary: A late night visitor to Station 51 starts mayhem when an arson gang takes on the town. As a result, one of the best, may be leaving.


This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story.

Emergency Theater Live, Episode Four

4. Within Sight- Season One- Episode 4 Short summary-  
A late night visitor to Station 51 starts mayhem when an arson gang takes on the town. As a result, one of the best, may be leaving.

****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it.

Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so.

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Long Summary-  
Chet accidently breaks his knuckles hitting the station punching bag while working out anger over arsons who indirectly caused Mike Stoker to be blinded by steam. A woman social worker works with Stoker to find a juvenile fire bug at a softball game being played by project kids. Squad 51 rescues an asthmatic child at the game. Stoker teaches Chet how to be the station's fire engineer while healing. A popsicle selling ex-fire captain is trapped in a derelict fire station after it becomes the arson's next target. Stoker's favorite project kid is trapped as well, forcing Mike to use Boot as a guide dog to go rescue them both. In a twist, Stoker regains his sight only after the boy loses his permanently due to fire heat. Boot adopts the blind little boy in the ball park.

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The Story Unfolds...

Season One, Episode Four..

WITHIN SIGHT Debut Launch: 15 Jan 2003.

From : "desertducks " Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] Back Home Date : Sun, 19 Jan 2003 07:45:11 -0000

The engine crew made it back to the station by nine o'clock that night. "Might as well ruin one more person's evening." Captain Stanley mumbled, mostly to himself, as he crossed the threshold to his office. He left his door open - it felt wrong to close himself off from the rest of his crew. He dropped into the chair, but shoved it back from the desk, leaned his head against the cool brick wall, and shut his eyes.

It sounded like Chet was finally running out of steam. The banging noises coming from the locker room had diminished to a less jarring level. Marco had gone to the kitchen first to start some fresh coffee. Now they wait.

No - he still had to call in for a replacement engineer.

"Is Mike Stoker here?"

The young voice startled Captain Stanley. He scrubbed his hands over his face before focusing on the boy standing in his doorway. It was late for a kid to be out roaming the neighborhood alone. He said the only thing he could. "He's not here right now. I'm Captain Stanley, is there something I can do for you?"

His heart was pounding all the way here just to talk to Mike. What was he going to say to the captain? "I think..." Not another sound would squeak out. ::Great, I'm already shaking, figures my voice would crack too.:: He started again. "I think I know who started that fire."

Photos : None.

*  
From : "Cassidy Meyers" Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Witness Date : Tue, 21 Jan 2003 00:29:52 +0400

Captain Stanley saw the color on the boy's face pale and saw how worked up he really was.  
"Here, son, have a seat before your knees rubber and they drop you flat. Relax, I won't bite." he said, rising. He guided the boy to the wooden chair across from the desk and half heartedly peered into the bay in an attempt to locate whoever it was who let the child into the station in the first place. He suspected it had been Marco.  
::Just like Lopez to subtly channel things concerning touchy run subjects my way:  
"What's your name kid? Kinda feel like I'm at a disadvantage since I don't know yours."

"I'm.....Jeremy Conners." he said quietly.

"Would you care to share just how you know my fire station's engineer?"

"Mr. Stoker's my coach in the Second Chance Little Leagues. We've been hanging out Saturdays. Been doing so all summer."

::Oh, :: thought Hank. ::That would explain it.  
Mike's doing that Big Brother program with the juvies through the city's foster care program.  
This young fella must be one of his latest personal reclamation projects.::

"He said I could come here if I had anything on my mind that was bothering me. And this is."  
he fidgetted. His scowling eyes never left Cap's.

Cap saw that Jeremy was an unusual child. He wasn't rubbernecking his surroundings like any other boy his age would. It was as if he already knew what a fire station was all about.

Hank's eyebrows rose but he put his analytical observations to the background for a while.  
"Ok, you came here to see my man Stoker for a reason concerning which fire? My men and I have seen three today." He cocked his head and gestured to the milk carton he had set near his incident report earlier to settle his roiling stomach. "This is still cold. Thirsty?"

Jeremy shook his head despite his nervous dry mouth. He purposely stopped fidgetting.

The red headed boy felt the station captain's eyes bore into his own with an intense scrutiny. "Before you make a move on me, I get out at night all the time from the Home so don't even think about calling the fuzz. I know every door outta here."

"Fair enough. Let me let you in on a little known fact about firehouses. In this office I'm not the station's captain anymore. I'm just Hank. Anything you say is confidential and won't leave this office unless it deals with someone's safety, property or life and limb." Stanley said. "So,  
what's eating you? Must be important if it bugged you enough to walk all the way here for what I suspect was about a mile or so."

The boy's face fell open in surprise. "How'd you know that?"

"Cause that's how far it is to the nearest residential neighborhood past the Arco refinery surrounding us. And, the logo on your jersey was a dead giveway." Cap spread his arms wide in a 'Well, what is it?' gesture.

Jeremy crossed his arms in front of his gray baseball sweatshirt and pursed his lips.  
He glanced away from Hank for the first time since he arrived. "I gotta think about this first."

Cap sighed wearily and grabbed his glass of now warmish 2% and downed it. "Make it fast. I'm expecting my men on the rescue squad back with some answers I need any second now. After that, I'm gonna be too busy for off hours visitors. So make up your mind pronto. Who started what fire?"

Jeremy countered. "Why isn't Mike Stoker here?  
That engine's filthy. He'd be the first one at it with a rag to clean it off.."

It was Cap's face that betrayed him this time and he went from tough act to vulnerable in a pico. "He's..well, I gotta break it somehow since you say Mike's your friend, Jeremy. Our last fire injured him when the roof caved in and trapped him apart from his hose team. In trying to get out, a steam pipe he didn't see burst in front of him and burned his eyes through his air mask pretty bad. Caught his throat and lungs too."

Jeremy held really still. "That's the fire I'm talking about then if the roof came down. Is..is..Mike going to be blind?" he asked in a very small voice.

Cap toyed with his empty glass thoughtfully and hid his emotion. "I don't know yet about that. I'm just glad he's still here. It took us a while to get him going again. That other answer, I'm going to get from my two paramedics the moment they get back to base. "

"They were the ones who got him out?"

"Yeah. Because another man of mine couldn't do it on his own."

".. That was..Kelly, Max said." Jeremy mumbled, barely audible.

Cap's eyes narrowed when he heard that inadvertant tidbit. "You know Chet Kelly?"

"He comes to our games with Coach every other weekend to try and sell hotdogs to the folks who come to watch us play. He doesn't know me, but I know him. What a weirdo."

Cap threw his jaw to the side in half irritation and no humor. "Ok, so you were at the last fire call or heard about it, if you knew that Chet didn't do so well saving the hour tonight because he freaked out a little. So it should be real easy now to tell me who torched that abandoned building then, wouldn't it?"

"Not gonna BE easy."

"Why not? You're here. And I won't say who told me who. Witness/FireCaptain confidentiality,  
remember?"

"Cause I may die for it, that's why. Listen high and mighty man, forget I ever came.." and Jeremy Conners shot up from the chair and darted out the office door.

"Jeremy! Hey! Wait!!"  
Hank ran after the boy but the child was faster. Jeremy slammed on the garage door release button and he logrolled on through the narrow space that was opening before Hank could grab his torn pair of blue Adidas sneakers to stop him.

Cap was left standing in the driveway surrounded by cricket calls and summer moonlight when the shed doors finally snicked fully open. There was no sign of the boy, only the sight and sounds of traffic on the boulevard winking in and out under the blue streetlights. Cap set his hands on his hips in utter frustration and leaned on the flag pole to hide his emotions as they rose to the surface yet again. ::Mike Stoker you hang in there.::

A rising soft night wind made the flags on the chains over him ring on the steel pole and Cap jumped, looking up. It hit home that Mike might not be there anytime soon to man the flag pole each day as he usually did. Slowly,  
Cap took down the state and department banners into his arms and tied off the chain.

He alarmed himself when he found his hands folding the flags into neat perfect memorial triangles. ::He's not dead yet stupid. And there's no way in h*ll this eye thing is going to make Mike retire if he does by some miracle, recover.::

In defiance, Cap rolled the silky flags into a ball and sank down with them in his lap with the pole at his back. He was quite alone when he started weeping.

------------------------------------------------

Chet Kelly sat down at the kitchen table with the engine's small first aid kit and he cracked it open.

Lopez set down a coffee mug in front of Kelly with a thunk. He opened his mouth.

"Not another word, Lopez." Chet warned, wincing as he examined the bloody knuckles he had on both hands. Kelly fought with kerlix and tape for long moments until he said. "J*sus Chr*st already. I give up. Just what kind of fireman am I turning into? I can't even bandage my own knuckles here."

Lopez pulled up a chair next to Kelly and took over the task. "Let me do that. Oo, Chet, these are going to be sore. Whydidya have to go at the punching bag so hard? No one's blaming you about what happened tonight. It was an accident. Old buildings fall down when they're on fire. It's a fact of life."

Chet grimaced. "Ahh!. Go easy on that mecurachrome. It's stinging! Tell me something Marco. Is it a fact of life that I panicked in there?  
It's not like me to lose my head in a crisis, I just..." and he shuddered. "I just...didn't like the mess that pipe made of Mike's face."

"You did all the right things Chet. You kept him breathing until we got him outta there. And Johnny and Roy got the perfect EOA in fast enough. Your hesitating those few moments won't amount to anything.. It was chaos in that room you guys were in. I know, I was up there."

"How can you know that for a fact Lopez?  
We couldn't even look at Mike's eyes to see if they were responsive--" and Kelly's voice cracked. Marco didn't say anything and he put his hand on Chet's shoulder in comfort as he got up to go find Cap. "Here, drink this.. It'll make you feel better."  
He said shoving his untouched coffee mug in front of Chet.

"No thanks.. Not by a long shot. I'll puke."

"Cap said the same thing.." Marco mumbled numbly, as he went out the kitchen door.  
"I'm gonna go see if Gage or DeSoto called Cap yet from Rampart."

Chet sat morosely in his chair and slowly cradled his bandaged hands and nodded silently.

------

Marco saw that the boy he had let in was gone already and that Cap's office was vacant.  
The yawning bay doors were open to the night air and Marco could just barely make out Cap's silhouette in the drive under the station's front spot light by the flag pole.

Marco was heading in that direction when the squad appeared, honking its horn in greeting. Roy waved,  
turning on its reds in order to make the backup maneuver necessary through the busy traffic, to park her.

Cap rose to his feet when he saw Roy and Johnny returning and he wiped his face quickly before either they or Marco, noticed.

Johnny called out. "Hey Cap, such service."  
he said gesturing to the open doors, he grinned.

"Cut the small talk Gage. How is he?"

Johnny and Roy both saw how deeply worried Hank was and how quiet Marco seemed,  
watching him. The false humor Johnny had tried to simulate fell away instantly..

Roy paused the squad in the drive and leaned an elbow in the window. The wash of the spinning reds in the darkness cast harsh lines on his face as he said...

------------------------

Photo : Chet Marco and Cap looking serious.

Photo : The station house at night.

Photo : A red head freckled boy with a buzz cut in closeup.

Photo : Johnny and Roy in the squad at night.

Photo : Mike Stoker on the mike near the engine cab.

********************************** From: Katherine Bird kathbird01y... Date: Fri Jan 31, 2003 7:49 pm Subject: The Spare Boots

"He's alive. He's still breathing ok. They took him up to ICU for a full evaluation." Roy said slowly.

"And his blood gases are still good considering the burns he took into his trachea. Amazingly, his chest is clear, Cap. Maybe the airmask helped a little keeping some of that steam from the pipe, out of his lungs.  
I kinda figured that when the EOA went in slicker than--" Gage said.

"And what about his eyes? Did uh, Brackett mention anything about his eyes?" Cap asked a little too quickly, betraying his worry. Then he added, "I was told that roof coming down was no coincidence.."

Gage and DeSoto were taken aback by how vulnerable Hank's voice sounded. And by the expression on Marco's face standing in the garage bay entrance, haunted and worn. "Cap.." Johnny asked. "Wh- what's going on? You know something we don't?" he said, getting out of the squad. He tossed his helmet into the seat and vaulted over the hood in a butt skid to get to his side faster.

Roy stayed where he was, hands on the steering wheel, engine idling, in the drive. He switched off the reds when Marco waved the outside spotlights a little higher so everyone could see in the darkness and DeSoto,too, took off his helmet, looking scared.

Lopez joined Johnny, Roy and Cap's group around the squad when he over heard Cap's matter of fact comment.

The warm night wind lifted the slack chain on the empty flag pole and the soft sound itself cut right through Hank and he looked up at it unconsciously. Cap fidgetted. "Roy, just finish backing it in there.  
Us gawking out here like this looks bad. I'll wait until ya get back out here. " Hank watched as DeSoto parked the squad. Then he shouted. "Kelly, front and center!" yelled into the open garage. Running footsteps told him he had been heard.

Chet jogged out of the kitchen, holding a dish towel over his hands and around the metal coffee pot and mug he had been drying.

All five firemen stood in a circle by the empty flag pole, tense and worried while Captain Stanley waited for the auto close shed doors to be fully shut over the vehicles. That rumble faded away,  
leaving behind cricketsong when Cap finally began to speak. "We had a witness tonight.."

"A witness?" Gage said.  
"Oh, so that's who he was..." Lopez said.  
"Who was who?" Chet asked.  
"Cap, how'd you find anybody so fast?"  
Roy asked.  
"That's what I'd like to know.." Gage said.

Cap held up his hands. "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Just hold up here.. I'm getting to that.  
Everybody, just hush.. and that's an order.."

The crickets reigned once more.

Cap sighed and lowered his head, planting his hands on his hips. "I have it on a good source that our derelict warehouse fire was actually a case of malicious arson.."  
Hank raised his chin when his men started to talk all at once again so he raised his voice that much louder. "Just wait a sec. If I get any louder, the whole world'll hear." Cap said, eyeing a convertible with curious college kids driving by, rubbernecking at the sight of the usually invisible firemen standing in the drive.

Gage noticed the car too, with startlement, and he quieted. He didn't even look up when one of the more attractive students waved a flirting hand at him. "Hey Johnny..." she purred.

Her innocent catcall as they passed the station seemed vile to Cap and very soon, they were gone. ::What a time for one of Gage's conquests to make an appearance.:: Cap thought. His office seemed suddenly a more tempting sanctuary. He felt his mouth move. "My information source knows the party who did it and you're not going to like it."

"What, Cap? Was the fire gang related?"  
Johnny asked.

"No, a group of minors started it."

Chet, Marco and Gage's faces screwed up in discomfort at the news and they all hid it badly.

"Just how young, Cap?" Chet asked, wincing when Johnny grabbed the coffee pot and mug out of Kelly's hands looking for a steaming drink.

"Nine or ten years old.. from what I was told. Two kids, at least, for sure."

Gage said, "Wonderful. Just wait until Mike wakes up and we tell him a bunch of kids KO'd him." He then addressed Chet's earlier irregular reaction. "What's wrong with you...?" he said.

"Nothin.." Kelly said.

"Uh huh.." Roy grunted and whipped away Chet's towel, revealing Kelly's bandaged hands. Chet, of course tried to hide them behind his back.

Cap oggled. "Oh, now Kelly.. don't tell me you just broke your fourth glass. Last thing I wanna do is call up McConike again for another crew replacement.."

Lopez piped up. "Actually, Cap, he--"

"Just you hush up, Lopez.." Kelly squeaked.

Marco glared at Chet and finished his sentence... "..took his frustrations out on the locker room punching bag. Bare fisted."

Hank crooked a finger in irritation.  
"Kelly.. Go inside.. And you're letting Gage and DeSoto take a look at those hands.  
Now." Cap said grumpily.

For once, Kelly didn't retort back.

The gang reconvened in the kitchen to the real pot of full coffee. No one said anything when Roy came into the kitchen with the squad's bandage box.

Cap said, "You take a real good look at him.  
I wanna know if he can work like that.." he said,  
pointing to Chet's bloody wraps around his knuckles.  
"Kelly, that was real stupid. Next time, wear the d*mned boxing gloves.. That's what they're there for.."

"That's what I told him.." Marco complained.

Chet's lips set into a firm line in a glare at Marco, but he kept his peace otherwise.

Johnny said. "All right.. Chet. Let's get these off."  
and he pulled out his hip holster shears and began to cut away Lopez's wrap job. The damp, red dressings fell away.

Roy whistled at the hamburgered skin he saw there. "Chet, it looks like you really did a number here.."

"No I didn't.." he complained. "It's just surface stuff."

Johnny experimented. "I know how hard your upper left cross is.." and he moved three fingers on Chet's right hand up a smidgen. "That hurt?" He immediately stopped when a loud grating from the hand almost made Chet and Johnny leap out of their kitchen chairs.

All the gang winced. Then Cap sighed and left for his office to call for another man to replace Kelly for the still out of service engine.

Kelly complained, loudly. "Aww, Cap.. You don't have to do that.. I'm fine.."

Hank's voice echoed back from the Cap's room. "You aren't going to be able to tell me that when you can't hang onto a 450 psi water hose next fire run tomorrow morning. And Kelly, I'm sure glad I won't be you when you personally tell the chief in the morning that your wounds were self inflicted. Gage, get him seen." said the booming invisible voice.

Johnny didn't say anything and he went out to the squad for the biophone. There was no trace of annoyance at all on his face when he set up the antennae and began to hail Rampart.

"Oh, geesh, Cap. You've got to be kidding me. I've dislocated knuckles before. They only hurt a few days.. And they usually work themselves back into place on their own with a little use.." Kelly said.

Roy had spread out a dressing sheet onto the table and he held out two hand fracture splints. "Not this time. That noise was crepitus Chet. Congratulations! We just found three BROKEN knuckles on that hand. And judging by the swelling and joint dislocations I see now, your left hand may even be worse off. Now don't move either one of them until I'm through."

Marco sighed. "I told him they looked bad too."

"You did not. You said they looked sore."

"Same thing.." Lopez said.

"No , it's not.." Kelly snapped. He paled when Roy made a small adjustment to one of his fingers in the splint to get a better pulse into it. "Oh, geesh. They're bad, aren't they..?"

"Only without treatment." Roy sighed. Then he saw Kelly's pallor. "Do you need to lie down there Kelly?"

"No.. no no.. I'm at least walking outta here on my own two feet if I'm going to the hospital tonight. No way am I going to be stretchered outta here."

"Then prevent that by lying down before you faint. Marco, get his arm over you. We're moving him to the couch."

"I'm...not...shocky!" Chet protested.

"You will be if you don't get flat. Now move it!!" Cap's voice filtered from the garage bay into the kitchen like a wraith's.

Kelly let Roy and Marco move him, complaining the whole way.

Gage picked up the biophone and followed.  
"Kelly just.. "

##51, this is Rampart Base. Go ahead.## came Joe Early's voice.

Gage's retort moused down into grumbles as he dragged a kitchen chair over to Chet's couch to hold the biophone, near where he was squatting. Roy got out a stethoscope and BP cuff. "Rampart, we've a hand case on a male, aged 28. 155 pounds. Probable knuckle fractures. We've applied immobilizing splints to both hands and all distal metacarpal pulses are intact.." he inferred from Roy's silent nod. "No other injuries. Stand by for vitals."

"Gage, this isn't necessary.." Kelly said when Johnny finished his sentence to the doctor on the line.

"Bet your BP's in the low 100's right now with all that excruciating pain. Bet you a month's dish detail."

"You're on.." Chet took up the challenge.  
"And it's not excruciating. Only nauseating."  
Then he realized that Gage got him to admit that he was in pain at the same time as managing to wring out a current patient history account on top of the insult. He glared at Johnny all the harder.

Gage winked a "got you" look at Chet and continued when Roy handed him the notepad of vitals. "Rampart, vitals are.. pulse 120.  
Respirations are normal. BP is.." he held off for effect for Kelly's benefit.. "...100/60."

Chet groaned when he realized he lost the bet.

Johnny was crafty and held out the phone so Joe could hear Kelly's groan for a moment.  
"And he's in a fair amount of pain, doc. I suspect that's why we've got the adverse BP. Hemorrhaging is negligible." He waved at Chet to keep moaning.  
But Kelly refused to aid him.

But one overheard groan had been enough and Joe replied.  
"I concur, 51. Give him 5 mg, MS IM. Continue monitoring vitals and transport as soon as possible. I have an orthopedic M.D. standing by."

"10-4, Rampart.. Our ETA is.. twenty minutes.."

"10-4, 51."

Johnny hung up the phone. "Marco, hand me the drug box.."

"A pain shot?! Oh, Gage, you are in sooOOoo much trouble."  
Chet warned, wincing as Roy finished splinting his hands.

"How so? I'm just doing my job, that's all. Preventative care...." he said in an exaggerated voice. "You feel that pain much longer and you'll lose Glasgow points enough to warrant an ambulance trip. How would that go over with the chief then, Chet?" he said sarcastically.

Kelly's anger melted away and he regarded his thick bandage encased hands. "I was just mad about Stoker, that's all. Cut me some slack.."

"We are man.. That's why were taking ya in using the squad." Gage said, "Now roll over and let me get this MS in. Just don't move the hands."

Chet sighed and complied. Johnny pulled up Chet's tucked in shirt and got him in the haunch.

"All right. Roll back." And Gage set a pillow on Kelly's chest to hold his now wrapped, and splinted lower arms up high. "Don't fall asleep. We'll get back with ya in a few minutes when the shot's working. We're not leaving until it is."

Chet grunted, still pissed.

"Listen, Kelly. Johnny could have told the doc that you did these injuries to yourself. He's probably already in hot water for not disclosing mechanism of injury. The doc's gonna know that the minute the dressings come off." Roy insisted.

"I appreciate it. I appreciate it! Thanks for not telling them I went crazy." Kelly insisted adamantly.

"Now why would we do that, Chet? Every one of us knows that about you already, so notifying the shrink in the ER isn't necessary.." Gage said, "If you'd like, we can call Vince and the Bellview monkeys to haul you off in their rubber cart to Rampart." he teased, ruffling Kelly's hair.

Kelly went to swipe his hand away when he remembered he couldn't. His sour scowl faded into a giggle that got out.

"Ah ha...." Roy said. "The shot's working."  
he smiled, taking a BP. "It's up. And guess what?  
It's normal now, Johnny. 132/94."

"That's our ticket outta here. Come on, Chet.  
Let's go. The faster they set those knuckles the sooner you can cook us breakfast. I'm starving.." Gage burbled.

Lopez and Johnny got him sitting and then onto his feet.

"Hey, I'm walking wounded here.." Chet giggled. "I'm not gonna go cooking anything.."

"Sure you are.. It's your turn to cook. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah.. I think.. maybe I can... I can manage to boil water for soup when I get b-- Hey, this shot's dreamy Johnny.."

"Now Chet, pay attention. One foot in front of the other. You gotta WALK..." Gage told him.

Roy grabbed the biophone, but traded the dressings box for the IV one from the hold to put onto the floor on Johnny's side of the squad cab.

"Close your mouth, Kelly. You're drooling on my shoulder.." Marco complained as he and Roy got Chet into the squad and buckled tight and bundled into a third helmet for safety.

"Huh??" Kelly mumbled.

Roy put his helmet on and got into the driver's seat. "Hey Cap.. This is what we did..." he hollered out. "Johnny and I got orders to--"

"I don't wanna know the details. Just go."  
Cap's voice grumbled from his open office door. "Have the docs fix him up and get him back here, pronto. Chief's got an eye on him for something he's not telling me about and I don't want Kelly's stupid stunt to wreck our chances of finding out just what that is.."

"You got it Cap.." Gage said. And then he poked Kelly awake when he started snoring into his ear from where he nestled between Roy and Johnny in the squad. "Kelly, no napping! Remember?" And then he took a pulse check using the artery in Chet's arm, squeezing a little too hard on purpose.

"Oww, hey, hey, hey..Your turn soon for the bathroom.. Just a few more minutes okay? Gotta shave my beard off.." Kelly slurred.

Gage chuckled. "As if you had a beard.  
Hey, open those eyes."

Kelly did crack his eyes open then, his clowning over.  
"I do, too. And it's as red as my moustache.  
Here. Feel.." and he caught Gage's hand into his own muffed ones and stroked it over the stubble shadow on his face.

Gage whipped his hand away in disgust.  
"Cut it out.. and don't be moving those hands like that.. Just keep holding them up higher than your heart on the dashboard there." Then he mumbled to himself under his breath. "Huh, don't we all have beards.."

"Not you, Gage. You're Native American.." Kelly said. "No hair anywhere except where you'd expect it."

"Oh yeah?" Gage said narrowing his eyes,  
off on another Gage band wagon. "Think of it from my perspective. It's not easy working with hairy gorillas as crewmates. Tell me, Chet. Doesn't all that chest hair make you kinda hot in summer?"

Roy, Chet and Cap said "No, it doesn't."  
simultaneously from where they were.

"Oh..." Johnny peeped. "Thanks for telling me that.  
Always ....wondered.." and he cleared his throat self consciously.

Cap came out of the office and saundered out to the alcove mike, thumbing it.  
"L.A. Station 51. Mark squad 51 out of service to Rampart until 0500. We're dealing with a minor in house medical call."

##10-4, 51. Time out. 03:12.##

Roy and Gage were about to leave the garage with silent reds when DeSoto suddenly screeched to a halt. "Would you look at that?"

"What?" asked Gage and Kelly at the same time.

"That..." Roy said, pointing to the cement floor before their bumper.

Boot, the long-time-ago-runaway-mutt, their old station mascot, was sitting there.

"Well, I'll be d*mned.." Cap said, setting his hands on his hips. "Come on, boy. Out of the way. The squad's on a rescue call for Kelly here."

Boot obediently slid over three feet and let the squad by.

Cap saw Roy pick up speed on the boulevard with top red lights on, but no siren, with satisfaction, and then he closed the big bay doors.

He and Marco were left face to face with Boot.

"Hey, boy. Welcome back.." Lopez said, crouching low to address the mangy medium sized dog.

Boot immediately whined and ran to the engine to scratch meaningfully on the door latch until he nosed it open. He leaped up.

Curling up on Mike's engine driver's seat, Boot began to whine and glance up at the two mystified firemen staring at him with their mouths flopped open. When he saw the men didn't do anything to explain the situation, he started nosing Stoker's helmet hanging there, crying in worry and distress.

"I don't believe what I'm seeing.. How did he find out about Stoker? And where did he come from?" Cap mumbled.

"I have no idea, Cap." Marco admitted.

----------------------------

Photo : Cap in a worried closeup in the kitchen.

Photo: Roy and Johnny leaving the garage on a run. Cap, handing them the run slip.

Photo: Boot standing in the garage.

*  
From : "Cory Anda" Subject : Motion to Promotion Date :Tue, 04 Feb 2003 14:50:07 +0000

Dixie McCall was on a night shift. She was filling in for Carol Evans, who was on vacation.

The automatic doors at the end of the hall around the corner activated and the soft rolling sound made her look up from her patient chart. The last three people she expected through her emergency department's portal was Johnny Gage, Roy DeSoto and Chet Kelly. Her eyebrows rose in a questioning glance but Joe Early stepped out of Kel's office just then and relieved her bubbling curiosity. "Joe? What's up? I must have been on break when their rescue call came in."

Joe said, "A code I. Probable broken hands. Enough to warrant a pain med. I got it from here Dix." he said, walking down the hall to meet Gage and Roy who were keeping a very tripped Chet steady on his feet. "Could you tell Rivers that his hand case is here, Dixie? I've already told radiology that he was coming."

"Right..." Dix said. "Hi Roy, Johnny."

"Hi Dix... Where to?" Gage asked.

"Get him into Treatment Two. And this is...."

"Chet Kelly." Roy replied. "Chet, this is Dixie. You might remember her from last year when you were blown into those crates from that paint factory explosion." Gage and he shifted Chet's weight between them as they guided him into the exam room.

Kelly grinned, feeling the heady effects of the MS. "Nah, don't recall.. How could I forget a beautiful face like that, man? Hi babe."  
he giggled, lifting his head from the gurney where Gage and Roy had placed him. "Where have you been all my life? I got the distinct feeling that you and I could make really beautiful music together.."

"Charmed." Dix replied, recognizing a high when she saw one. She looked up.  
"Morphine?"

Johnny firmly pushed Chet's shoulders back down onto the table, grinning. "How can you tell?"

Right then, Dr. Early came into the room and immediately went to examine Chet's eyes.  
"Did he behave himself on the trip in?"

Roy said, "He was fine, doc. We managed to keep him from using those hands too much."

"Yeah.." Johnny smiled. "I told him he had to keeping holding the dashboard to keep the squad steering straight." he joked.

"Hmmm..." Joe said, leaning in close to get a good check on Kelly's pupils.

Chet was now happily groggy and didn't mind at all when Joe and Dix unwrapped his hands onto sterile sheets on his chest for his x-rays through the splints.

Kelly started humming absently through the whole . Rivers entered the room. Joe acknowledged him. "Johnny, Roy,  
Chet, this is Dr. Craig Rivers, head ortho from upstairs. He's going to be handling Kelly's case."

"Hi, doc.." Roy, Johnny and Chet echoed.

"Hello, everyone. Let's see what we've got.." And Rivers checked out Chet's hands visually, noting the same signs that he had read from the run sheet. "Did he take out some frustrations on a wall or two?" he asked the two paramedics. "These knuckles look like they took that kind of blunt trauma."

Roy and Johnny shifted uncomfortably.

DeSoto replied. "Close, but no walls per se, it was a punching bag, actually. Chet was a little upset about a coworker of ours getting caught in a roof collapse last night."

Johnny dove right in with the opportunity for an update. "Dix, how's Stoker doing?"

Dix was helping redirect the exam table light down onto Chet's hands so Rivers could see what he was doing. "About the same.  
You could go up and visit him if you'd like."

"Hey... I wanna come too." Chet said, trying to sit up. Roy, Gage and Dr. Early all held him down onto the gurney.  
Kelly stared at the ceiling, grinning like an idiot and he added.  
"Glad my ploy worked and I got here to Rampart so I can see him while still on duty. Thanks,  
Gage. Thanks, DeSoto, for playing along..." Kelly said, muzzily serious.

"Who's playing, Chet? Your hands are really busted.. And Cap took you OFF duty." Roy informed him.

"Now keep still."Gage told him firmly. Then he looked up and mouthed to Dix and the docs, "Want us to strap him down?" he said from the corner of his mouth.

Joe smiled and shook his head. "He seems cooperative enough. And that MS will be wearing off in a few minutes. I'll change it over to Meperidine so he won't be so tripped out before we get started setting those fractured knuckles."

"Think he'll need surgery, doc?" Roy asked Rivers.

"No. These breaks I can manually reduce right here. The x-rays will confirm what I'm seeing now when they come through." Craig admitted. "Listen, has Chet ever broken his hands before? That may effect his recovery time; from a few days to perhaps two weeks or so."

"Nah, doc. He's been living a charmed life.  
No fractures, even after eight years with the fire department." Gage told him.

Roy concurred. "It's the rest of us who haven't been so lucky."

"Really.." Rivers said conversationally polite. He didn't inquire further.

Gage looked up at Dix. "And Stoker's number's up for the first time. He's the one Chet was so upset about. Say, Dr. Early. Can we leave to go check up on Stoker? Think you three can handle Chet on your own down here?"

"Yeah, sure Johnny. Go right ahead.  
We'll make sure Kelly behaves himself while we get him squared away and into a pair of hand casts." Joe said.

"See you in a bit, Chet.. Now stay put."

"Righto, Johnny boy...." Kelly giggled.

Dix mumbled to them as they passed.  
"He's in ICU six, second floor." so Chet wouldn't hear.

"Thanks Dix, we'll be back in a few.." Roy said,  
holding up his walkie talkie.

"I've got a fresh coffee pot on by the call station.." Dix added. "Help yourselves."

Roy and Johnny left the room.

"Hey, bring me some...." Chet piped up.  
"I'm thirsty!" he shouted belatedly.

Dix turned back to the bed. "Sorry,  
Kelly. You're NPO for a while because of that lovely pain med you took in the rear. " she guessed, seeing no IV hanging by Chet's head. Then she looked up at the docs. "Want a line started for that Meperidine backup?"

Joe sighed and nodded. "Looks like we need it if he's feeling dry. Make it a 500 cc Normal Saline Drip, wide open.  
We'll crank it down when he's better hydrated. He probably lost some fluid volume working that punching bag so hard."

"I'll get right on it.." Dixie answered,  
moving to the Treatment Room drug cabinet to find the proper IV and set up. She took off the stethoscope that she had been using to take a vitals set on him. "BP's steady. 126/68. Pulse 90, Respirations 22."

"So he really is thirsty.." Joe concluded from Chet's heart rate.

"Looks like it." Rivers said from where he had his head band light down over his eyes while he gently probed how each knuckle displacement situated with each finger on Kelly's hands.

Chet started humming tunelessly again, lost in his drugged stupor, while Rivers and Early started to set up the equipment and things they would need to set Chet's hands.

X-ray arrived to take pictures after Dix was through starting and stringing Chet's IV on a pole, and everyone vacated the room until the films were finished being exposed.

---------------------------------------------

Roy and Johnny felt small went they entered Mike Stoker's critical care room.

Despite all their know how and training,  
the sight of the respirator and all the tubes in place around Mike took them aback.

Stoker was still and ghastly white under the dim light of the bed's wall illumination.  
The soot that had covered him had been washed away and all his face burns were shiny with silvadene.

Johnny nodded a silent greeting to the nurse sitting by Mike's bed and stepped forward, being careful not to disturb any of the connections to the machines monitoring him. Gage set a hand on Mike's arm. He was relieved to find Stoker's skin warm and dry, unlike the cold clamminess he remembered from the fire when they had found Kelly's report of Stoker's arrested state to be true.

Roy asked the nurse, "Has he tried to fight the airway yet?"

She shook her head apologetically and smiled. "Want me to leave you alone for a few minutes?" she asked.

Gage didn't say anything but he felt his head nod yes and dimly, he was aware that Roy was nodding, too.

Roy and Johnny didn't even notice the intensive care nurse depart, leaving the three of them alone.

Johnny felt his eyes lock onto Mike's tightly bandaged ones and he shifted his grip to Mike's hand, squeezing it.

Johnny just swallowed, finding himself unable to speak.

Roy leaned down close to Mike's ear when he saw Johnny falter, and he asked for him. "Hey Stoker.. It's just us. How are you doing? Looks like the nurses and doctors are taking really good care of you here.." DeSoto smiled. "Your EKG looks good. And it's probably not long before the docs will lift your sedation so you can begin to wake up."

Johnny just continued to hang onto Mike's hand, listening to his partner talk, lost in a worried haze as he watched the respirator breathe for his friend in its slow artificial pattern. Gage's uncharacteristic quietness made Roy keep up a running dialogue to quell his own unspoken fears.

Roy sighed, and grimaced, patting Mike's blanketed shoulder. "Cap's made some progress on who started that fire. Your instincts were right. That warehouse was a case of arson. Some kids involved so far, and for some reason, Cap's protecting their identities, perhaps to get his witness to give up more information... W- We'll get to the bottom of this."

Johnny still didn't say anything.

Roy began to fidget in the chair where he sat and he gave Johnny his privacy by not looking at him. "You'll never guess how Johnny and I got to come up here after visiting hours like this.  
You're not going to believe this. Chet went one on one with the locker room punching bag and lost.  
Busted six knuckles as far as Johnny and I could tell. We'll get him up here to see you as soon as he's finished getting patched up." DeSoto put on a brave smile, as if the expression would somehow translate into his voice for Mike's benefit. "He was pretty upset he couldn't do more for you after he dug you out. But he did a good job keeping you breathing until Johnny, he and I could get you outta there and to the 02 and all our gear. You left us for a bit then, but we managed to shock you back after only a couple of minutes' work."

Roy's eyes were following Mike's EKG and he was heartened that it had picked up a bit while he continued to talk. Johnny didn't miss the responsive signs either and his expression brightened. Finally,  
Gage found his voice. "Yeah, we were lucky. D*mned lucky. Oh, you might notice when you wake that your eyes are bandaged. That's from that hot water pipe that broke above you when the roof gave way so you just concentrate on getting better and-- and.  
and thinking positively about that because we really want ya back at the station as soon as possible.  
Doesn't feel the same without you. " Johnny grinned tightly. "We're not the only ones who feel that way.  
You'll never guess who showed up just as we were taking Chet to the hospital to get his hands set. I'll give you a hint. He's brown, hairy and has four legs."

Roy chuckled. "Yep. It's Boot. Went right to the engine,  
looking for ya. No doubt he's got plans to keep the seat warm until you get better. So get better, kay?"

Mike didn't move. But the EKG didn't slow its reactive rate either. DeSoto and Gage got to their feet and waved the nurse at the ICU desk back into the room, indicating that their visit was over. She left her post and came back into the room.

Johnny asked her. "How long has he been listening to people like this?" he asked throwing a hand at the overhead EKG above the bed.

The nurse fussed with Stoker's pillows and blankets before settling back into her observation chair at his bed's foot. "Oh, for about an hour now. Looks like his sedation's wearing off early."

"That's great. That's great." Johnny said quietly.  
"Would you give us a call when he's extubated? It would really mean a lot to all of us guys at the station to know he's snapping out of it, know what I mean...? We also want to know about his.. well, whether or not he can.... you know."

"See? " the young nurse suggested. "I think I can do that. You two are with 51's right?"

"Yeah.." Roy replied.

"Dixie's got your number and I can get that easily enough. I'm here until eleven and I will call when it happens."

"Thanks. We ah, we really appreciate it.."

"No problem.." she said, turning back to watch Stoker's EKG and respirator's venting rate.

DeSoto conducted his partner out the door without saying a word, excusing them both from the room.

Out in the hall, Johnny asked. "Wow, do you think he was really hearing us in there?"

"Johnny, now you know better than to doubt what your eyes are telling you. Of course he heard us. Someone would have to be dead to not hear you." he quipped.

"Very funny." Gage frowned, then he smiled. "Hey,  
Chet's gonna like this news. " then he remembered.  
"Ooo, but he's probably getting his knuckles set right now. I hate being in the room when fractures are getting reduced. Why don't you and I wait it out in the nurse's lounge?"

An amused grin filled Roy's face. "All right. I'll give in to your one squeamish tendency..Know that the coffee's bound to be old in there."

Johnny was already halfway to the elevator.  
"Umm hmm.." he replied. "But it's out of earshot of Chet's treatment room."

"Chicken.."

"No, just.. selective.. If I was a fan of medieval torturing practices, I'd be there." Gage said,  
uncomfortably rubbing nervous hands on his shirt's front.

"Chet's gonna be given Versed. He'll feel the initial setting of his knuckles the second it happens, but then he'll forget about it right away the moment it's over. That's the beauty of that particular drug." Roy suggested.

"I know.. I know.." Johnny twitched with a shiver. "I just have .....never been able to convince myself that it really works that way. Screams are screams."

Roy grinned, but he was very merciful for a six year paramedic partner. "Come on junior. Let's go hide out then, until it's over."

"Thanks.." Gage said wanly.

-----------------------------------------------------

Back at the station house, the gang was all wearing their night pullup trousers and boots despite being out of service for the rest of the early dawn until their called replacements could arrive to fill Chet and Stoker's places on the engine. They were in a circle around the engine's open cab door.

"Now that's devotion.." Cap said, not minding Boot's muddy paws resting where the scraggly dog lay, dusty from the many miles he must have travelled to get from ten's to 51's. "Looks like we're going to have to get a prybar to get him outta that driver's seat."

Marco plunked Henry's old bowl down full of left over hamburger on the concrete floor and Boot was out of the engine like a cannon shot for the grub. Lopez grinned. "Or a bowl of vittles."

Hank closed the engine's door after brushing off the dirt from the seat onto the stone floor with satisfaction. Both men crouched over the dog,  
caressing his fur affectionately. "Good boy, nice to see you again. Hope you stay a long time." they coo-ed.

Then Marco said, "Even Mike's gonna love seeing you ag--" he broke off, fighting a sob.

Boot stopped eating immediately and looked up, staring into Marco's face. He whined, setting his paws on Marco's shoulders and he licked his face once before turning back to wolf down his dinner.

Lopez laughed and grimaced, wiping dog food and dirt off his cheek. "Gee, can't hide anything from you, Boot."

"Guess not." Cap agreed, standing. "Give him a good B-A-T-H when he's through in the locker room tub, all right? I'll get breakfast going.."

"You're cooking?"

"Yeah.. got a problem with that?" Hank challenged.

"No. Just never ever remember you doing that before, Cap." Marco said, sheepishly.

"First time for everything. Sort of like Boot here coming back to a firehouse he's already visited.."

"I guess.." Lopez said, affectionately patting Boot's sides until he was warned off with a don't-bug-me,  
I'm-eating growl from Boot. "Ok.. ok. Uncle. Lick that clean when you're done big fella.." he said,  
standing.

Cap made his way into the kitchen and the empty chairs there. Through the window, he could already see the light of dawn peeking through the cracks of the shade pulled down there. Foregoing decorum,  
Cap pulled up on the shade, letting in the rich rising sun's light into the room until it flooded the kitchen in a tawny glow. Its warmth felt good after a sleepless night and soon, he felt comfortably relaxed despite events.

Then Cap turned to the frig to plan out breakfast.  
It took a force of will to taper down portions on the stove enough for five only instead of the usual six. ::I hope Roy and Johnny make time to run up to Stoker's room to check up on him. I hate not knowing how he's doing.::

Marco and Cap had eaten already and three full plates were sitting in the oven, keeping warm,  
when they heard the garage doors rumble open with the squad's return.

Roy and Johnny wearily entered the kitchen and sat down in the chairs. Boot immediately went for Roy's lap where he sat, sniffing his hands and shirt eagerly. "Yeah, boy, we all saw him. Stoker's doing ok. " he said to both dog and Cap. "He's even listening up when spoken to."

"That's good news.." Hank said. "Chow's in the oven.. Where's Kelly?"

"Sleeping it off." Gage replied. "I sent him to his bunk. Gonna be another hour before the meds the docs gave him wear off enough for him to feel hungry. Then I'll take him home if there's time, before our replacements arrive."

"Who's coming?" Roy asked.

Cap said, "Don't rightly know. The Chief didn't say any names. Remind me to have Chet talk to McConike before he ships outta here. There's that message the Chief wants to give him.."

"What message?" Johnny said. " 'Don't forget your gloves again, Kelly' kind of message? I fell for that once from you, remember?"

Hank laughed. "No, actually. He wouldn't tell me over the phone. Said it was between him and Kelly."

Johnny and Roy's face fell. They suddenly knew what it was.

Roy finally said the unthinkable. "The chief's aiming at Kelly taking Stoker's engineering spot, isn't he?"

Cap didn't say anything. Then he just nodded.  
"Most likely, if things don't pan out for the best with Stoker's eyesight."

Gage slammed his mug down on the table.  
"Well, isn't that just lovely. Mike's not even six hours back from near death, and already, McConike's washing him up..."

Cap turned appraising eyes on his fiery paramedic.  
"Now Gage, you know this is just backup contingency.  
No one is retiring anybody just yet."

"Then why that for Kelly's-ears-only phone call...?" Johnny asked bitterly.

To that, Cap had no easy answer.

----------------------------------------

An hour later, Chet arose from his recuperative nap and made his way into the kitchen, "Oh man, I feel like something Boot dragged in. Hiya, Boot." he said.

"How are the hands?" Roy asked, pulling up a chair and pouring a mug of coffee out for him.

"Thick. But they don't hurt much anymore."

"That's the Versed.." Johnny smirked with amusement. "Wait until later when that memory blocker starts to wear off."

Roy shot Johnny a disapproving glance.

But Johnny got out a pair of hotpads and got out Chet's breakfast from the oven where it still warmed and began cutting it up for Chet industriously with fork and knife. "Need help eating this?" he asked, not unkindly.

"I got it. Just cut the steak into smaller pieces."  
Kelly said, fumbling with his fork in his abundantly wrapped hands. He stubbornly stabbed an egg onto the fork using his chin and both splinted palms.

Marco noticed his difficulty and said, "You're not driving home that way.."

"Says who?"

"Says me.." Cap said with authority.  
"Gage has already offered to drive you home. Now do you have someone around to help you about the house until you've healed up in a few days?"

"I can call my sister. She owes me one.  
I took care of her when she busted both legs skiing last winter."

"Ouch.." Johnny said, swiping some toast over his rapidly emptying plate. "Did she have fun doing it?"

"About as much fun as I had busting my knuckles, and thanks for asking." Kelly said.

"Hey, how was I to know? Most people ski for enjoyment's sake." Gage complained.

"Yeah? Well, my sister skis like I work out when we both get upset about stuff."

"And you both get hurt doing it." Roy said quietly.

"Not all the time, DeSoto. Just that one time for her, and now this time, for me.." he said, holding up his splinted palms.

"Just make sure your brand of therapy follows less aggressive routes next time Kelly, or there will be h*ll to pay." Cap warned. "I had to talk a blue streak to keep the Chief from disciplining you about your little stunt this morning."

Kelly was properly abashed. "Thank you." he said very fast.

"Call the Chief when breakfast is over. He wants to talk to you."

"But, Cap, I thought you said you got me out of hot water...."

"This is about something else, Kelly." Cap toned back.

"Oh."

"Then get back in here and tell us what it was all about. Sounds important."

"Right."

Soon, Chet had finished manhandling his food into his stomach and made the call to McConike from Cap's office. Minutes later, he shuffled back into the kitchen, numbly sitting back down into his chair.

"Kelly, you ok?" Roy asked.

Chet looked up and his face was devoid of humor or pleasure. "Chief says I should start taking a look at the red book from Cap's office pronto like. "

"Oh really? Wh-What's the red book?"  
Gage asked, pretending pretense.

Chet didn't say anything.

Cap got up and disappeared into the bay. He returned with an unfamiliar fat, red book in his hands. "This book. Chet, The chief probably wants you to know the basics by the time you're back on the duty rosters.. I'm sorry, buddy. I just didn't think the chief would really consider this course of action so soon."

Chet read the cover and his face fell with remorse.  
"Oh, Cap.." he sighed. "I- I can't do this.. It isn't right." Kelly's closed his eyes. "This is the engineer's manual. Seems I've been chosen to be next in line for that position on the engine if Stoker doesn't make it back to the actives list."

------------------------------------------

Photo : Dixie at desk looking surprised.

Photo : Johnny with milk carton at night.

Photo: Roy in kitchen chair with Boot in his lap.

Photo: Chet, looking sad, with Stoker's engineering manual open, in his lap.

*  
From : "patti keiper" Subject :[EmergencyTheaterLive] The Long Tiny Steps.. Date : Thu, 06 Feb 2003 06:47:31 +0000

Acknowledgements to.  
Tom Stafford - Firefighter Captain /MD on Chemical Firetruck Training Procedures

Acknowledgements to.  
Dr. Jeff Seltun for Pulmonary Scalding Lab Test Orders and General Ophthalmology Medicine.

Dr. Brackett was paged to Mike Stoker's room around noon. Joe Early was on hand when the call light came on from the observation nurse. Stoker was semi awake and beginning to fight the respirator. Kel leaned over the bed.  
"Beth, get Dixie in here." Kel ordered.

The critical care nurse used the wall phone near Mike's head to summon her.

Dr. Brackett leaned close. "Mike. It's ok. You're in the hospital and you've been intubated to counteract the spasming effects of the burns you have in your throat. Try to relax. We'll evaluate you to see if we can let you try to breathe on your own off the respirator."

Stoker stopped struggling, but then his hands went to his face. Dixie arrived just in time to help Beth gently restrain him from touching the burned areas on his face around the eye dressings. "He's relaxed about having his eyes covered at least.." she said.

Beth piped up, "That's because his station crew mates were up here telling him what to expect when he woke up. Mike, besides Dixie and me,  
Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early are here."  
The two nurses quietly spoke to Mike while Kel and Joe consulted after a quick exam of his chest and breath sounds. They stood at the foot of the bed so Mike wouldn't hear them discuss a decision.

"What do you think, Kel? Too soon to go off the bird?" Joe asked.

"Not necessarily." Dr. Brackett said, rubbing his chin. "The danger of tracheal adhesion is has passed. The initial wheezing we heard when he was admitted has gone away. I think we can go ahead and make him more comfortable.  
If we run into any problems, we can always bag him until we can re-sedate him for a second intubation."

"I agree. Let's go ahead then."

"Dix, watch his BP." Joe said and together, the two doctors instructed Mike how to manage himself while the respirator was turned off and the EOA removed. Beth was right there with a hissing suction tube to carry away liquids as the slender airway was taken out.

Stoker wanted to cough and he winced from the sting of burns deep inside. He let himself blank out to end the pain. He felt the nurses pull him onto his side to drain out his throat for him and his alarm grew when his diaphram refused to pull any air into his lungs when he felt the suctioning wand leave his mouth.

"BP's dropping. 88/46.." Dix reported.

Kel reached for the diazepam syringe pack on the crash cart and tossed it onto the bed so it would be nearby.

"Mike." Joe called out. "Give it a few seconds.  
That winded feeling will ease off. Then see if you can try to inhale on your own. Don't worry.  
If you can't, we'll support you with 02 on an ambu bag until you're ready to do it on your own."

Beth held one ready and flowing on standby.

Kel stood listening with a stethoscope as Mike's EKG rate rose higher as the firefighter worked through his fright and the natural cramping of his wounded throat in response to the airway's removal. Finally,  
after half a minute, Stoker's muscles relaxed and he took in a ragged involuntary breath, tentative, but effective.

Immediately Dixie slipped a simple clear,  
non rebreather mask over his face on full flow sending Beth with the ambu bag valve mask away with a nod. "There."she said. "You did it, Mike. Now relax." Everyone in the room sighed in relief. Mike's tracheal blistering hadn't harmed his ability to breathe at all.

The EKG settled fitfully into a normal but fast sinus rhythm that slowed increment by increment with each successful breath Mike drew in.

After a minute, Dix announced.  
"His pressure's back up. Settling in at 120/62." she told the doctors.

Dr. Brackett put the sedative med back onto the crash cart and hung his head in relief.

Beth placed her hands on either side of Stoker's face so he knew she was near. "Having any pain now anywhere else besides your sore throat and face ?"

Stoker shook his head and gurgled when he tried to talk.

"Don't." Dix told him. "Not yet.  
Swallow. Again. Now wait a minute or two before you even think about trying to talk."

"The rocky part's over Mike. I promise you no more surprises like that." Kel frowned.

Dr. Brackett listened to Mike's chest and upper trachea again with a stethoscope while Joe began to unwrap Mike's eyes bit by bit for a cursory ophthalmic exam. He kept them patched until he nodded at Beth to wave the room lights down to complete darkness except for the pinpoint spot from his ophthalmoscope.

The saline soaked patches came away.

Stoker's raspy voice whispered to them.  
"I can't see.."

Kel's face softened. "That's because we have the room lights turned off to make it easier on you. You also have some swelling of the tissue around your eyes and both of them have swelled shut. Just relax,  
Mike. We'll know soon enough what's going on after Joe takes a look at you. Does your chest hurt at all?"

"No..." he sighed, still whispering.

"Good. Your bronchoscopy didn't show any major damage to your pulmonary tissues. Only some localized scalding above your larynx.  
The collapsed airway you suffered during the fire reopened again nicely once your coworkers got you back outside away from all the heat."

"I stopped breathing?" Mike asked.

Joe and Kel hesitated. Then Dr. Brackett ventured into a disclosure. "For a while. Enough to lose a viable heart rate. But there was no difficulty in reconverting you. You were down for only a minute or so and Johnny and Roy got you back effectively enough to matter until you got to the hospital and we could stabilize your vital signs. You ran no hypoxia risks at all."

"I almost died?" Stoker asked again.

"Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, Mike Stoker. And you know it." Dixie said. "Now lie still and let the doctors finish examining your eyes." she said no nonsense.

Mike stayed hushed.

Joe said. "Mike this may hurt a bit when I shine the scope's light into the back of your eyes. I need to see what's happening to the deeper structures there."

Stoker gasped when the light shone down.  
All was a mass of shadows and shocking white flares which smeared together in sparking chaotic afterimages. His head began to fill with pulsing stabs of agony.

Mike's EKG sped up suddenly.

Joe immediately quelled the light. "What did you see?"

Stoker told him.

Kel and Joe glanced at each other.  
Dr. Brackett said. "There may be some fundus involvement here. Perhaps even with the optic disc itself. But then again,  
those visual anomalies could just be the transitory results of superficial corneal burns. Try it again Joe."

Once more, Joe used his scope to peer around Stoker's red swollen eye lids into the eyes below.

This time, Mike's discomfort doubled. His hands shot up and gripped Joe's wrist.  
"Ahh.. don't...!" His sharp movement made Dr. Early drop his instrument onto the pillow.

"All right. I'll stop." Joe said quietly.

Kel and he and Dix and Beth all exchanged worried looks. Then Joe gripped Mike's hands in firm comfort and he returned them back under the blankets. "Ok, that's enough from us for now. We'll repatch your eyes with more antibiotic salve and try again in a few days."

Mike didn't say anything and his heart rate remained fast and panicked.

Kel said. "Don't let this dishearten you at all, Mike.  
Sometimes it takes days or even weeks for normal retinal responses to return to the eyes following heat exposure like this. But from what we did see here, your eyes are intact. Both your scleras are understandably swollen and red and your pupils are adjusting somewhat irregularly due to the burns there, but globally, at this stage, things are looking about as well as we all expected."

Mike let the nurses rebind his head tightly, to keep out any more light before he spoke again.  
"Doctor Brackett. Just how well is 'As well as expected?' "

They didn't say anything.

Mike filled the silence. "You know, six years ago,  
Kip Jenkins from Station 16's took a spark on the eye just standing roof watch. And it cost him his job when it later healed over, leaving him with tunnel vision on that side." He swallowed. "Is that going to happen to me?"

Kel kept his hand on Mike's arm. "It's too soon to tell, Mr. Stoker. Only time will show us any final outcome here."

"I know.. I know..." Stoker said, folding his hands over his chest, trying to pull shreds of dignity about himself as he would a turnout coat against the blazing heat of a fire. "I just don't like being kept in the dark..."

Dixie looked down.

"Sorry.." Mike apologized for the black feeling joke.

Kel said to him. "Mike, let's see how the rest of you is doing in the meantime. Joe, let's order another set of arterial blood gases to see how well it's working out for Mike being off support like this. Also, I want to get a second chest X-ray to compare it to the one we took last night. Dix, I want the lab to get electrolytes, a urinalysis, a BUN, a creatinine series and I want respiratory therapy to get in here to start some pulmonary function tests on Mike's lung performance."

"I'll get right on it.." Dix said, moving to the phone.

"I'd just wish I could find out answers a little faster. Not knowing anything's killing me.." Stoker sighed, gasping through the oxygen mask.

Brackett chuckled in his throat.  
"Trying being a doctor and compounding that particular problem in the form of fifteen new patients a day. Now you know why doctors like me grumble so much.." he grinned wryly for the nurses benefit. "One step at a time, Mike. It always comes, one step at a time.. For you, that means that all you have to be is a patient patient and the rest will follow naturally. In your future, there may be the slight chance of corneal transplantation surgery. But your positive contrast vision tells me that even that, might not be necessary in the long run."

Mike stayed numbly quiet as he attempted to settle his labored breathing around the burns jabbing in his throat.

Kel sighed. "Just leave all the worrying to us. It's what we get paid for. See if you can get some rest, all right?"

"I'll try, doctor."

-------------------------------------------------------

It was four days later on the exercise grounds at the L.A. County firefighting training facility.

Station 51's usual fire inspection duty assignments had been traded away to another sister station so she could report with her crew solely for Chet Kelly's benefit. He had passed the paperwork part of the standby engineer's test and now was entering the practical skills testing.

A mockup of a two story apartment tower building with a fuel truck spill at its base was the scenario the chiefs had mapped out for Station 51's chemical truck to handle. And on a signal, the whole facsimile was set ablaze along the tarmack using hidden torches embedded from spigots in the concrete.

"Ok, Kelly.." encouraged Charlie Atkins, the replacement engineer assigned to 51 until Mike Stoker's situation fell one way or the other over the fence. "This is an easy one. Think...grease. Now, what mix are ya going to pick for your hoses?"

Chet Kelly watched Marco, Cap, Roy and John string lines at the ready, aimed at the fire's heart, and they all looked back towards Chet at the chemical panel on the engine for Chet's signal to let go the charged hoses.

To one side, the Batallion Chief was also drilling another company as they broke in a new man on driving a ladder truck around an obstacle course. For the moment, the gray haired supervisor's attention wasn't on 51's exercise.

Chet Kelly bit his lip, checking and rechecking the pumper readouts. "Repellent surfactant at ....18% per hundred gallons ppm...with every five hundred hydrant gallons from the ground."

"Right. Right.. Gotta do that because fuel's so volatile with our 21% air 02 ratio." Charlie said with a nod around the smoke drifting towards them from the building. "Now what else before you release your mixed reservoir to your crewmates?"

Kelly's face fell out of concentration and his initial self assuredness dropped away.  
"I don't know man. I - I got the right chemicals here.. I know I do.. I've been eating sleeping and dreaming these mathematical formulas for days now."

Suddenly a pair of calm hands came between the men and locked off the settings Chet had chosen on the fire retardant soup to the hoses and Mike Stoker's voice said. "You tell your captain to call in the foam truck for a protective covering spread, Chet." His fingers danced over the dials of the engine in a ballet of familiarity.  
"From what I feel here, you did everything right. Give them the go ahead. This was sort of a trick situation they mapped out for you. It's not in the book. Just remember foam with fuel and fire."

Chet's face was a mix of emotions as he lifted his HT to his lips. "Engine 51 to HT 51. Hoses one and two are set and locked. Foam 127. Move in to assist from the...." Chet paused as he rechecked the wind direction with a moistened finger,.."north side of the fire. You are committed.."

Charlie, and Mike, who was still eyepatched tightly, both smiled when Kelly said everything according to procedure. Even Cap, on Chet's place at a hose nodded appreciably before he turned back to fight the fire.

Mike said, "Turn down your master valve two points.  
Your left hose sounds kinda hissy.. That one's not getting enough psi because your supply's been split off.  
Must be because the engine's not quite on level ground.  
Flows faster on the downhill side always."

Kelly squinted into the dials and wiped grime off the dial in question. "Man.. what ears.. You're right.  
Two points off my percentage setting. I thought we had the lock down legs on the plates planted perfectly man. I thought we were ON a level."

"This whole valley's tilted. You had no way of knowing that. I'm just remembering the pitch angle from my head."

"Terrif.. Way to burst my bubble, Stoker." Charlie ribbed. "And here we all thought you were a miracle dowser through and through."

"Ok, I'm compensating....now.." Kelly said.  
Chet and Charlie hauled on Mike's arm to get him back against the safety of the truck to prevent him from getting a painful bang on the shins when Johnny's team's firehose bucked at Chet's minor adjustment to it.

"Thanks guys.." Mike said, feeling for the cab door. He opened it so he could sit inside to keep the excited Boot company.

Atkins had his own advice.  
"Chet, do this too, whenever you make an adjustment or you'll be black and blue before you know it."  
Charlie felt around with a foot in the standing runoff water until he had one shoe pinning down the main hose as the men worked to put out the mockup fire in both the semi vehicle and the test building. "Just like this. These hoses are like live animals whenever anyone rounds a corner in there or shuts off a spray or two to move to another hotspot. You won't see any of that. But your legs will sure make a note of it. Directly standing on these puppies will give you plenty of warning about a buck."

Mike said, " Yeah, that's a good pointer.  
Now Kelly, I want you to watch the wind and how all the hoses' fanning water may be getting diverted. I can't tell what it's doing by the sound. If you see the guys' jackets getting dry more than the water's cooling them off, turn up the psi and the chemical mix rate until 90% of the hose charge is getting onto target, that'll buy them more time on their SCBA's since they won't breathe as fast then due to overheating. A trick I learned is to get progress reports from each team, every five minutes about hose patency. Listen to how they're breathing over the HT and that will give you clues too as to how well you're controlling their water supply based on need. They won't tell you if they're in trouble that way since things are steaming in a fire anyway."

Kelly's face fell open in surprise as he kept his lightly ace wrapped hands on the master pressure dial valve and watched the effect of the daylight wind over the whole scene before him. "So that's why you keep bugging us when we enter new fire hotspots.."

"Yep.." Mike grinned.

Charlie even looked abashed. "You know, Stoker.  
I've been engineer at 110's for five years and that monitoring trick is certainly new to me.."

"That one's not in the book either.. I adapted it from watching Johnny and Roy work on people. The higher the breathing rate is on anybody, the more trouble they're in. It's a dead giveaway. Works for working firefighters who aren't in medical trouble too."

"You know, Stoker? When you finally get back on the job, I'm trying out your little trick at home on the guys, at the next fire. I've always wondered why our station's SCBA fill rates were so high.  
Now I know why.. The men were too hot while working!" Charlie groused.

Chet and Mike laughed.

Mike cocked his wrapped head at the sound of the laying foam finally swallowing up all of the flaming truck mockup. "Ah, ha.. We've turned a curve.  
The building, next, after that truck, won't be hard to extinguish now that its fuel source is smothered. Hear that, Kelly? The fire's quieting even though the flames probably still look the same. It's dying out now."

"I hear it. It was kinda growling and hollow before,  
now it just sounds like a really big camp fire."

"That's the distinction between the growth and death of a fire. Remember those sounds." Stoker told him. Boot seemed to agree and he barked.

About ten minutes later, station 51's fuel fire exercise was over and the next scenario was set up for the next station on the rosters to complete.

Chet was told to wrap up his hose teams and wash away the foam for the next group to use the test site.

Station 51 was released to return to base and their regular duties.

-  
Mike was laughing with the guys in the kitchen when Chet made his way to the engine and his potential new station assignment at the engine chemical panel.

Gage had come by to wash his hands before lunch when he noticed Kelly quietly surveying that side of the engine with his hands in his pockets.  
"Chet, are you actually moping?" he joked,  
his shoes skidding to a halt from his whistling jog to the locker room sinks. "I don't believe I've ever seen you do that before.. Well," he amended, "maybe only once or twice before."

"Oh, hi Gage." Kelly said glumly, sitting on the running bumper of the engine.

Boot seemed to notice that Chet was feeling blue because he bolted out of the kitchen, dropping the roll of paper towels he had stolen from Marco, and immediately skittered across the slippery floor to nuzzle a nose under Chet's ace wrap gloved hands.

Kelly winced a bit with the move on his still healing hands but he immediately ignored that and petted Boot's long back.  
"Hi, Boot. Look,... you guys didn't have to come out here. I'll be in for lunch in a sec. I.  
just got away for a moment to do some ....thinking..."

"Oh yeah?" Johnny said, his earlier kidding turning respectful and serious for once. "What about?  
You're gonna be a richer man come Sunday when you finally pass your finals.. An engineer pays,  
what? Eighty dollars more a week than a regular hose man? And you know, come to think of it,  
you're gonna be making fifty dollars more a week than either Roy or I. " Johnny put a shoe on the engine's bumper which Chet promptly pushed off to rub with the white towel that he now carried around with him out of habit. "Hey.. hey... watch the scuffing! I gotta account for the public appearance of Red in spite of how much the rest of you guys like to dirty her up."

That surprised John. "Oh really. Now it's you,  
versus us? Is all this standby engineer promotion stuff going to your head?"

Chet looked immediately abashed and suddenly sheepish.. "Well,... " Then he squared his shoulders and only flinched a little under Johnny's angry stare.  
"...Yes... I guess.."

Johnny's face melted from suspiciously malicious to a broad sh*t eating grin. "Well, good. Now you're finally starting to sound like Mike Stoker. I'm proud of ya, Chet.. Come here and stop feeling guilty.  
After all, this pumper man job thing's only gonna be temporary and we all know it.." And Johnny's arm wrapped around Kelly's shoulder in an affectionate hug which turned into a raiding noogie, and soon the two friends fell into a wrestling match on the floor that Boot happily referee-d and watched over with loud bellowing barks.

Of course, the struggle and grunting commotion brought everyone running. Soon, bets of who would pin who first filled the air and even Mike got into it despite his blindfolding bandages.

Right then, the station alarm went off .

Photo : Mike Stoker, looking dashing.

Photo : Charlie Atkins from 110's.

Photo : Engine 51's chemical dials.

Photo : Burning fire in a test building burn.

Photo : Boot and Chet, in the same small chair.

Photo : Johnny and Chet having a heart to heart talk by the engine.

*  
From :"Roxy Dee" Subject : Instinct~~ Date : Wed, 19 Feb 2003 01:26:19 +0000

The call came through, ending the wrestling match in short order.

##Squad 51. Child down, at the McGregor baseball field. 9 Greenway Pass. Cross street, Niven Boulevard.  
9 Greenway Pass. Cross street, Niven Boulevard. Time out, 13:07##

"Cap!" Stoker said, ignoring Boot who was pulling on his leg to get him out of the way of the squad's bumper as Johnny and Roy wrote out their call slip and opened the rescue truck's doors. Mike grabbed onto the edge of the wall map to steady himself from Boot's protective-of-the-one-hurt activity below.

Captain Stanley piped up after acknowledging the run on radio frequency. "Yeah, what is it Stoker?"

"That's my ball field. Let me go with them."

Stanley looked up sharply.  
"I can't authorize that. Stoker. You're on medical leave.  
And besides that fact, you're still wrapped up like a m-"

"Cap, I know those kids! They're on my Big Brother program. It's gonna bug me not knowing who's in trouble."

Boot was still hanging onto Mike's pants leg when Cap finally said. "All right. Get in there. And I'll tell you the real reason why I'm letting you go with them. One of your kids may have been the arsonist who was responsible for your eyes getting burned."

"What?!" Mike gasped. His shock and surprise were plain even through the white kerlix concealing most of Mike's face.  
Cap sighed.  
"Gage, DeSoto you didn't hear this.. Stoker, the kid you're looking for is Jeremy Conners, he mentioned something about Max, knowing details about the warehouse blaze that injured you. See what you can scrounge up."

"Thanks, Cap..I will. " Mike said, turning his bandaged eyes towards the squad, but Boot still stubbornly held him in a firm grip by the ankle.

"Boot, let him go.." Cap ordered the hairy mutt "guarding" Stoker. The shaggy dog dropped his hold on Mike's foot immediately and sat next to Cap as the garage doors finished rolling up into their housing. Stoker climbed in fast when Roy stepped out of the squad to make room for him to sit between them. DeSoto guided Mike's head into the cab before he got back behind the wheel.

Chet came jogging up and he handed over Stoker's helmet from the engine for him to wear. "You let me know what happens, Mike. They're my kids too.."

"I can do you one better Kelly." Roy promised him. "Get on your HT. Listen for our med call on Rampart's base station channel.. It can be done. KMG 365-B, sub two. We'll still be in the ten mile range and open to you. That way, you'll know the minute we do about what's up. Just don't speak up or L.A. will hear you."

"Nice tip. I'll do that." Kelly said, and patted the squad roof to let Roy know that all feet, dog and human, were clear of the tires.

Roy, John and Mike drove quickly out of the station, turning left onto the street with sirens and lights on full.

Chet and Cap in the bay crouched by Boot, and both men absently petted him. "Hey Cap, just how much trouble are we in for letting a blinded fireman go to a rescue scene?"  
Kelly asked.

"Could be plenty. But, I've special leeway when it comes to investigating a fire crime and that's what I'm banking on to bail my butt with the chief. If Stoker stays off the radio, like I know he will, headquarters will never know he's out there with them." Stanley snorted.

"Glad you let him go."

"Like I had any other choice? I don't think twenty Boots could've stopped Stoker from riding along.." Hank quipped, pointing to their mascot who was playfully tugging on their shoe laces. "Come on, let's put lunch in the oven. We'll eat when they get back. "  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The squad arrived at the park on the north side of the reserve's four fields. Stoker was able to tell them which ball diamond was the McGregor field because of his knowledge of the park's layout.

Roy and Johnny screeched to a halt in the parking lot nearest a crowd of kids milling about on top of the rickety graffiti painted, wood tiered bleachers.

"Mike, do you know your way around here well enough?"  
DeSoto asked as he pulled out the biophone, drug box and 02 from the storage compartment of the squad.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I hear Old Ben in the concession stand.  
I'll let him lead me to the bleachers so I can talk with the kids. Just find out what's wrong. It's killing me not knowing what's happening here."

It soon became clear that finding someone to be Mike's eyes to navigate the area wasn't necessary.

"Coach! Hey guys, look! It's Coach! He's all right!" said an older boy of twelve in a dingy baseball outfit.  
Then two baseball teams of kids flooded around Mike Stoker enthusiastically in a cheer and even Old Ben lifted his head to peer myopically from the concession stand.

Gage was irritated by the throng, "Hey ...hey ...hey, now we're on a rescue call. Who called the station about a hurt or sick child?" he said lifted his medical boxes high over the children's milling circle around them.

One little girl piped up. "Oh, you must mean Susan."  
she said snidely. "She made us call for help from the park pay phone because she said she was dizzy again."

"Does Ben know about this?" Mike asked incredulous.

"Nah, he don't know.." said another boy. "You know how deaf he gets sometimes. He told us there's no way he's leaving the popsicle cooler. Guess the older boys have been stealing too much behind his back. Must have thought we were trying to trick him again.  
Why are your eyes wrapped like that, Coach?"

Roy rubbed his nose, looking at the tiny young man.  
"Look just forget Coach's eyes for a minute.  
Where's Susan? Least we can do is take a look at her to see if she's really ok." DeSoto turned.  
"Mike, do you have State authorized consent of guardianship over these kids when you're on the premises? I don't see any adults nearby that look like they belong to any of these kids here.  
We may have to treat her."

"I do... Susan's one in the Big Sister program under my authority. This is All-Clubs week and sounds like all my kids are here today. All I know is that she's a fourth grader at the Home which is only a block away to the north." Stoker said. "There ARE no parents as all these guys are fostered out through the State Home there. Usually Old Ben has his grown daughter psychologist helping to keep an eye on things during Free Day like this. I'm not hearing her voice anywhere. Don't know why she's not here right now. .  
If she had been, this whole situation might not have happened the way it's happening right now."

"Mike, your authorized consent is all we need at the moment. Try to calm down." Johnny said. Then he pointed out a random kid from the noisy bunch. "You! Son! Yeah, you! Take us to where Sue is, pronto like. It might be serious." he said letting his frustration of not finding their patient ooze out of every pore.

The strapping flame haired boy protested. "Gee. What a grouch. You sound like my ex-step dad."

"Jeremy Conners..!" Stoker admonished recognizing the voice that he had overheard.

"S-Sorry, Coach. Bad habit."

Gage put on a grin he didn't feel.  
"I promise we'll be a lot less grumpy after we make sure Susan's not in any kind of medical trouble. So lead the way and we'll be nice as pie through it all."

"She's under that gum tree. She crawled over there a few minutes ago. But she's probably faking it again. Like last time."

DeSoto did a double take at that news. Then he remembered how tall kids tales could really get and dismissed the remark as exaggerated.

Roy and John ran over to the tree with their equipment to the small blond headed tom boy appearing girl lying face down in the shade.  
They left Stoker and his young fans behind.

Gage grabbed for the fourth grade girl's brachial pulse. "She's viable. Around 100." Then he bent down to check the quality of her respirations. "Hey, Susan, can you hear me?" Johnny listened to the back of her chest without moving her. "She's breathing, but I'm hearing substantial wheezing." he reported. "Could be asthma since her upper airway's clear." Gage lifted his head and shook her shoulder. "Susan ! Hey! We're with the L.A. County Fire Department and we're here to help you out. Now, come on and open your eyes."

She didn't respond.

Gage pinched the loose skin on the child's arm to further fine tune test her awareness. Susan only groaned and didn't try to pull away from the pain or attempt to open her eyes. "She's groggy. About a six on the Glasgow, Roy." and he bent to check her eyes with a penlight. "She's definitely not faking anything here. Slight dialation on both pupils, and she's getting more dyspneic by the moment."

Meanwhile, Roy was losing his medical history source.  
Jeremy Conners was edging away from the scene.  
"Wait... wait ..wait, where are you going? I need to talk to you.." DeSoto said to him.

"The game's going on.. I gotta get back.." the street wise Jeremy said. He started to turn away but Roy grabbed his uniform sleeve as he prepared an oxygen mask for Johnny to give to the downed girl. "Hang on. Just a minute more all right? Tell me about that last time this happened to her. Can you do that?"

The red headed boy seemed unnaturally nervous around the paramedics, and he squirmed in Roy's grip. "I don't remember. It was earlier this spring. I.. Uh... She forgot to bring her...onhal.. unhal.."

"Her inhaler?"

"Yeah, that's it. Now let me go.." The boy said,  
yanking his arm away and he danced out of range nimbly. He made tracks back to the grandstand across the parking lot and nearly crashed into one of its posts when he made sure Roy and John weren't following him.

Johnny Gage had finished his assessment of the girl.  
"Not a mark on her." Only then did he sit her up against the tree to help ease her increasingly labored breathing. He took the mask from Roy and set the 02's delivery on light before setting it firmly over Susan's nose and mouth. He then began to search her pockets for forms of ID and for the missing inhaler.

"We gotta move fast or she'll quit breathing on us."  
Gage said.

Roy's face frowned as he took a BP. "70 systolic.  
I'm getting on the phone early. A doc can order epinephrine at least."

"Here, guys." a voice said and an inhaler plunked down onto the grass between two tree roots at Roy's feet.

Johnny and Roy looked up from Susan.

Mike Stoker was being led over to them by two of the street gang players from his baseball team. "I made the kids check the outfield for anything belonging to her thinking things she had in her pockets could have fallen out during a rough play. They say her name's on it." he informed his coworkers.

Gage snatched up the tiny inhaler and read its details.  
"Albuterol. MDI dosage .15 ml per inhalation." He sniffed its mouthpiece. "Looks like she didn't use this today at all,  
Roy."

"Got it.." and Roy connected a link on the phone with Rampart.

"Thanks Mike, but I don't know if having this will do any good. We don't have a positive ID on her yet.  
She's carrying no identification cards. No med bracelet.  
No nothing! I wish to G*d that you had your eyesight back right about now so we know for sure that it's her."  
Gage complained. He started loosening and freeing the girl's clothes from around her waist, chest and neck. He began setting up an EKG.

"What's she wearing?"

Johnny muttered. "What? Stoker, we don't have time for this.."

"Humor me, Gage. I don't need to see to positively identify her. And I'm the only one who can. Most of these kids only know each other by their made up street names."

"Well.." Johnny exclaimed in exasperation. He held up the jersey top he had removed from the girl. "It's uh, sort of like a gray and blue baseball uniform. But she's wearing no cap."

"What number's on the front?"

"Fourteen."

"It's her. Guaranteed. These kids are very territorial about letting others wear their team jerseys. Doesn't happen.  
Susan's got short whitish, blond hair and a star shaped birthmark on her left cheek bone." Mike said.

Johnny checked the girl for such a mark. It was there. "Well, I'll be.." he smiled. "Stoker you just earned yourself a day off from dinner detail the instant your butt's back on duty."

"I'll take it.... Anything else I can do?" Mike said.

Gage watched Roy give his medical report to the hospital and said. "Yeah, kneel down next to me right where you are and help me keep tabs on her resp rate. We may have to switch over to the resuscitator. Here, the apparatus is at your two o'clock. Think you can be a head vent?"

"I can do it blind."

"I know you can.." Johnny said seriously. "Be right back. I'm going for the defibrillator.." and he rose and ran to the squad full tilt.  
"Roy! Pulse's 140 and rising.."

DeSoto was completing his initial report.  
"...Vitals signs are showing acute distress.  
Pulse 140 and bounding. Respirations 26 and shallow. Marked wheezing even in Trendelenberg position. BP is 70 systolic. I can send you a strip on lead two."

Dr. Brackett replied and Roy could hear his alarm.  
##Do it.##

"10-4, Rampart. Transmitting, lead two.." Roy said.

##51, what's her consciousness level? I'd feel better if we had a controlled airway on her.  
I'm reading a V-tach of 140 with precursor PVCs. Does she have a gag reflex?##

Mike lifted up the child's 02 mask and slid a finger into her open mouth and down Susan's tongue, briefly touching the back of it. The little girl's stomach heaved in immediate reflex and he quickly stopped his move so she wouldn't complete the attempt to vomit.

"That's affirmative, Rampart." Roy sighed.  
::Damn..::

##Ok, we'll tackle this head on, without one. Prepare to administer one dose of the patient's inhaler. Rig a nebulizer of a second dose to a humidified ambu on standby with 2 ml's diluted respiratory saline. Keep monitoring all vital signs closely. 51, is a defibrillator nearby? Albuterol with shock sometimes brings about acute cardiac dysrhythmias.##

Roy saw Johnny hoofing it back with the unit across the parking lot. He had also grabbed a long wooden stretcher board for CPR and transport ease. "10- 4, Rampart. We have it in hand."

##Start an IV first, 51. We'll want an open line if she crashes. Make it of normal saline, a 500 ml bag. And keep it open only. Give me another set of vitals after her initial medication is in. And keep the EKG strip to base running.##

"10- 4, ah,..Administer one dose inhaler post IV normal saline, 500, to keep open. Standby nebulizer second dose with 2 cc's respiratory saline in an ambu bag. Preparing for possible counter shock. Vitals to follow post med. Continuing the EKG send.  
10-4." DeSoto said. He lowered the phone. "How's she doing Mike?" Roy asked in worry.

"Still attempting inhalations. But her rate's up to 36."

"Tidal air?"

"Building. She's barreling out a bit."

"Johnny, let's move. She can't wait."  
Roy said, taping off the IV. "She's trapping air already."

Gage scrambled to Susan's head, dropping the defibrillator paddles he had laid out and he shifted the girl from the tree to Mike's shoulder so she sat against him with her head tipped well back. Together, Roy and Johnny fitted and triggered the inhaler into her mouth so the medicine entered deeply into her lungs. Gage immediately listened to her chest with a stethoscope,  
holding his breath, while Roy and Mike held her still. Roy replaced the mask back over her face as she began to cough harder and harder.

Stoker whispered into her ear, stroking her hair to comfort her. "It's ok, Susan, tastes bad but it'll work good. Give it a second or two to absorb, hon... just wait, then it won't be so hard to breathe. It's all right. Coach's right here."

Susan jerked with an involuntary cry,  
suddenly stiffening, and her gasping stopped.

The EKG fluctuated and the two paramedic firemen froze, their eyes glued to the heart monitor, and Mike, as he listened, as it danced irregularly for one second. For two.

Gage reached for the ambu bag.

But then, Susan sighed quite normally, and all of her respiratory distress ended. Her breathing deepened and eased and soon, the rapid heartbeat on the monitor smoothed out into calmer rhythm.

A minute later Susan's eyes cracked open, swollen and red, as she came to fully.

Johnny sighed likewise in relief at the positive proof of her now open lungs. "That's my girl.  
Hi there. It's ok.." he said softly as she began to cry. "The worst is over.. It's ok.  
Mike, you can lay her back down again.  
Mike, you can let go of her. She's fine now."

Susan's fright grew as she became more aware of being lowered to the ground and the fact that strange firemen were now hovering over her instead of her playmates. She immediately screwed her eyes shut again. The heart monitor blipped out a faster rate.

Gage took her IV free hand into his own.  
"Susan, Susan. Now listen to me."  
Johnny soothed as his partner and Stoker wrapped her in a warm blanket. "I know you're scared, and I know that medicine's probably making you sleepy. But you're gonna be all right now. So go ahead and take a nap. I promise, you'll wake up in a nice big, comfortable bed later tonight in a place a whole lot better than this nasty old root knotted lawn here in the ball park, ok?"

The siren of the approaching ambulance grew louder, startling his young friend,  
so Mike added. "A hospital doctor's gonna look at you next, just so we know you're better for good."

"Coach?" She sobbed. "I- is that you?" she said, peering up in confusion at Mike's wrapped eyes.

"Yeah, you're not dreaming."

"But--"

"Shh, rest. Don't talk. My answer is, Yeah, I'll watch your mitt for you. Got it right here." and he held it up.  
"Scout's honor?"

"Scout's honor.."

"Ok, and watch my jersey, too. *Yawn*"  
Susan's cheek snuggled up against Stoker's hand where he held her face around the 02 mask and fell asleep instantly.

Roy called Rampart, smiling from ear to ear, with a glowing vitals set for Kel Brackett.

##I saw the improvement. Glad the one dose protocol did the trick. Now get her in here ASAP.## he grumbled happily.

"10-4, Rampart.." Roy replied, waving a "Come on!" to the attendants hustling it across the parking lot.

They arrived and positioned the gurney near the sleeping child. Roy set the empty long board first onto the cot and Gage said, "Ok, let's load and go."  
he told them. "No need to semi-elevate her. She's a very stable asthmatic recoveree. The board's only an arrest precaution." He said moving the EKG, portable 02, drug box,  
and the defibrillator to the foot of the cot.

"Easy. " Roy said loudly for Stoker's benefit. "This one's special."

"Right.." One of the two burly attendants gently gathered Susan up into his arms without waking her, blankets and all.  
"Is he going in too?" the second attendant asked,  
gesturing at Mike with his bandaged wrapped head. Stoker was leaning against the tree, reining in his reactions about the nearly soured rescue of the little girl.

"Him? No, no no. He's a fireman on medical leave.  
He's with us. Go ahead. My partner's riding in with you." Roy answered.

"Ok, Joe.. Whatever you say.." he shrugged in a New York accent.

DeSoto watched the man leave after the girl laden gurney and Gage.

Then Roy walked the few yards back to the tree where Mike rested his head.

Roy tapped his shoulder.  
"You coming with, Stoker?"

Trembling, Mike lifted his head to face DeSoto.

"Oh uhhhh.. " he said thinking hard. "No." Stoker said, still cradling Susan's jersey top and baseball mitt. "I'll take a cab back to the station in a while. I want to hang around to see if I can locate Jeremy and his friends or even Old Ben's daughter. I want to bend their ear a bit about what they've been up to lately since I've been gone."

"Suit yourself. If you're not back by dark, we'll send out a search party.." DeSoto quipped.

Stoker waved a get outta here gesture at the departing footsteps he heard. "Thanks Roy, for not letting her die." He called out after DeSoto. "I don't know what I could've done if she.." and his voice cracked.

"Hey, just relax. She didn't die. Johnny and I make it a point to never lose any kids on any of our runs as that would be a gross violation according to BOTH our personal rule books."

"Thanks just the same, Roy."

Roy stopped and turned back.  
"No, thank YOU. Your remote consent to treat, power-of-attorney, over Susan made all the difference in the world today. I'm just glad you decided to ride along with us on your sudden instinct like that."

"Yeah.." Stoker said. "So am I."

"See ya, later, Mike. I'll keep you posted." Roy said.

"See ya."

Soon, ambulance and squad left the ball park and their sirens faded into the distance, leaving Mike alone in the parking lot surrounded by wind and seabird calls.

Then Mike turned his face into the sun and felt his way back to the grandstand where he sat on the hot planking, pretending to be engrossed in the ongoing game he couldn't see, until.....

-  
Photo: Cap squinting in bright sun wearing full gear.

Photo : Roy looking down on a victim in a close up.

Photo: Johnny Gage reassuring a small crying girl.

Photo: Dr. Brackett quickly scanning an EKG strip.

Photo: Mike Stoker looking down.

*  
From : "Cory Anda" Subject : The Tinder Kid Date : Wed, 19 Feb 2003 21:53:18 +0000 "Hey Coach.. What are you doing here?" an adolescent voice said, cutting through the sound of the active baseball game playing on the field. "Last I knew, you were wearing angel wings in a flaming tin can of a factory, squashed flat. Heh."

:: Gotcha.. ::Mike thought in triumph. His mind raced. ::So you were at my fire, Max. And you knew about the resulting roof collapse accident. Now how does Jeremy Conners fit into all this? ::But out loud, Stoker said. "Hello, Maximillion." Mike smiled through his bandages. He could just imagine the dark skinned, slightly overweight boy, taking the seats two at a time, to get up to him. "Can't keep a good man down I guess." :: Or a good fire crew.:: his mind amended. "My crew bailed me out, last second, that night. Have a seat and take a load off for a while. I'd love to catch up on what I've been missing around the old dugout."

He heard the boy's jaws cluck noisily as he chewed something. Mike fervently hoped it wasn't a tobacco plug again. He couldn't tell for the hot afternoon wind was blowing in the wrong direction.

"Not much. Same old same old." Max drawled in heavy L.A. inner city accent. Then his voice changed. "Say..Coach, you feeling ok? You're kinda pale, even more than you honkys usually are." Max said.

"Oh, I see. I'm gone for under a week and suddenly I'm demoted to being a honky instead of a hose jockey. Thanks alot." he teased. "What does that make you then,  
Max, eh?" he said punching his friend's shoulder in jest.  
"Hmm.. A darkie instead of a delinquent juvie? G*d forbid.." he moaned dramatically.

"No, a darkling. Get it right." Max found Stoker's error on city lingo very hilarious and he let out a rich peel of laughter. "Gonna give me a reason why you're looking like a ghost, Coach? Or are ya just gonna be funny and 'burb talk me to death?"

Mike's amused grin fell away into seriousness.  
"Susan just gave us a good scare down there. She's the reason why I came here to the park with Johnny and Roy today before my eyes healed if you're wondering."  
"Little ol Susan? What's she got to do wid you, man?"

"She got a little sick just now because of her asthma.  
And it almost got dangerously out of hand. Didn't you see me trying to help out? Surprising since your favorite game roost in the scoreboard sign has the best overview of the whole parkland."

Max scoffed. "I didn't see nuthin'! That little liar's been trying to wimp outta playing good all summer.  
Besides, Jeremy told me she was faking it."

::Yeah, so then where were you to miss the sirens and all the excitement of the last hour?:: his conscience fathomed. Again, Mike spoke differently from his mind's track. "Never mind. You had to be there." Stoker sighed. The callousness of the city kids he coached had long ago ceased to surprise him.

"Here.. Hold out ya hand.." Max said. "Got somethin'  
for ya.."

Mike lifted a palm, and he felt a slender stick with a weight pressed into it. He smelled a rich, mellow sweetness coming from the frozen treat in his hand. "Ooo, banana! My fav. Thanks for the popsicle."

"No problem. Got one for me, too." the boy said proudly and he leaned into Stoker's arm, trying to tip him over in a play wrestle. But as usual, Mike was an unmoving stone on the bench. But that didn't keep Max from testing out his young strength on his favorite program coach.

"How'd ya pay for it?" Mike said while Max grunted with a failing effort to budge him off his place on the bench.

Max bristled tangibly and Mike felt him stiffen and let go of him."Some gratitude! Here I do for a friend and what do I get? Snoopy questions. What do ya take me for? A criminal?"

Mike schooled his lips to stillness so the boy wouldn't catch on. He thought. ::Yeah, the worst kind. One that would burn down old buildings with a total disregard for any possible loss of life. :: But out loud, Mike said. "No. I never pass judgement on anyone without proof. I was just wondering since your uniform doesn't have any pockets to hold loose change and you travel light with nothing but your bike usually, when you come here."

Max frowned and rubbed his curly ebony hair where it itched his game sweaty face. "I.....uh,..got coins in my roost, Coach.. Jeremy and I got a whole tuna can full up there from his paper route. " he lied.

"Ah, I see." And Stoker let the subject matter drop.  
It would be easy enough to ask Old Ben later if his popsicle cooler had been raided yet for the day.  
"So, how's the game going?" he waved a hand absently in front of him.

"Going good. Smitty's on first, Tiny's on third and it's Cruz up to bat. I'd say we'll smear da other team next inning up." Max said, slurping noisily on his popsicle as it melted in the hot sun. "We're six to nothin."

Mike ate his, too, just as fast. "Go Zephyrs!" he called out. And got an enthusiastic round of cheer whistles from his kids on the field. He grinned despite himself and then parked his licked clean empty popsicle stick in his polo shirt pocket. He held out his hand to Max without saying anything for his, just as the older boy was about to sail it like a spear onto the playing field.

"You sure you can't see?" Max said grumbling as he handed it over.

"Not yet, but soon they tell me. Close that mouth before you draw flies, Maxie boy. I just know you very well. You should start collecting these from the other kids and save them for me. I collect these sticks for Tiny."

"Whatever for?"

"He likes to build firetrucks out of them." Stoker said.  
"I already have one at home from him that looks like the engine from my station. It's on my mantle above the fireplace."

Max's voice changed. "Oh, you mean the Ward LaFrance."  
he said in an admiring tone. "I like dat one, too."

Stoker angled in like a blood hound. "So you like Big Red. Didn't know that."

"Oh, yeah, Coach." Max sighed. "I's specks there ain't a fire truck around that I don't know the name of...I like the way they look."

"Oh, really? So why don't you ever come to the firehouse with me and the other kids for tours?"

"Man, stuff like dat's for little kids. And I'm almost twelve."  
Max declared. "I got other ways of seeing them.."

Mike felt a chill. "Oh, yeah. What do you do?"

"I go to fires. Lots of em happening in the neighborhood.  
Then I can get real close. And it's real odd sometimes, cause usually Jeremy's right dere with me even if I hadn't showed him where da burning building was first." Max said.

Stoker managed to swallow around his dry throat.  
"H-how do you know when there's a fire?"

"Use your noggin, Coach. Or did that get just as bashed up as your eyes did? From a police scanner, man. There's one in Old Ben's concession stand."

That snapped Mike out of his fears. "There is?"

"Yeah. He keeps it under the popsicle cooler. And I'm the ONLY kid who knows it's even THERE." He said proudly. "Didn't you know that Old Ben used to be a hose jockey just like you? And just like Jeremy Conner's dad before he got burned up!"

Mike shook his head no and didn't say anything for a while for a long stretch of time. Stoker didn't like the new thoughts forming in his head. Feeling disturbed,  
he tried to focus on the happy sounds of the game entering its final inning.

Then he heard Max trickle, "Uh oh.. Gotta go, Coach."

"Why? You just got here."

"The shrink's comin..Old Ben's daughter."

Mike said, "Victoria won't bother you. She doesn't bother me.."

"Well dat's just you, Coach. She psycho analyzes us juvies all the time and it's startin to get on my nerves big time. She's not nice like you and I've given her plenty of times to get dat way. Gotta split before she sees me. And if she asks, I wasn't here talking wid ya.."

"Deal.."

Just like that, Maximillion was gone.

A half minute later, Mike heard fresh sneakers climb the bleachers to his level. Out loud, he called, "Hi, Vickie.. Long time no see..." he joked.

The woman actually stopped in her tracks in shock.  
"How did you do that? I could have been anyone from the game.."

"I'm clairvoyant. You should know blindness causes the other senses to sharpen."

"Not that fast."

"Well, guess my case's the exception to the rule." he replied. He waited for Victoria to sit down next to him before he said, "Say, Vic. Where were you about a half an hour ago?"

"I went to get Dad some more ice for the popiscle cooler from the supermarket. Why?"

That answer got Mike mad. "Don't you know you have to keep an eye on these kids when they're out of the Home? Your father's not physically able to keep tabs on them well enough to matter anymore."

"Mike, why are you getting so angry?"

"Because just now, I responded to Susan Jordan's rescue call with the squad when she suffered a severe asthma attack."

"Susan? What?... Where?!"

Mike could almost see the psychologist's face search around for the little girl. "Vic, sit down. Just sit down! Most likely, she's still at Rampart getting treated or at least waiting for the duty counselors to come pick her up to take her back to the Home." Then his anger really went ballistic. "I'm surprised you didn't even notice she was MISSING until I told you she had fallen ill."

"Mike Stoker, that's enough!" Victoria flared. "I am a volunteer in this park. Not a paid employee like you and my father are. I only come here to lend an ear, to help these poor kids work out some of their hostile feelings about being abandoned by their families.  
But only if they come to me. I'm not responsible for them or for what they do outside the Home."

"Yeah, well somebody should be! There are problems I could tell you about that crop up out here that you couldn't even dream of.."

"Try me, Coach. I'm a licensed expert." Vickie said in a steely voice.

Stoker hung his head in shame. "Sorry. I just get a little possessively protective of these kids having none of my own."

"I get the same way I'll have you know." she said, a little less defensive. "So, who'd you talk to that got you so up in arms?"

"What?"

"The popsicle sticks. You've got two in your pocket and I know you only eat one a game so you can stay fit for work."

Stoker subconsciously felt where they lay in his shirt pocket with a thumb, and he drew them out,  
fingering them nervously in a palm.

Then he sighed in heavy resignation.  
From the beginning, Mike Stoker told Victoria all he had learned from the kids and Cap about the fire that had trapped him and about what he newly suspected about his closest and dearest project kid. He only hoped that it would get the ball rolling fast enough to save him.

"And just who is this child whom you think is so deeply disturbed about his father's death? We've dozens of pyro potentials in the Home that fit that psychological history profile."

"The boy I'm referring to is Jeremy Conners."

"Oh my G*d.." and Victoria sucked in her breath.  
"He's not a pyro risk in my files."

"Put two and two together, Vic! That's the only conclusion we can draw here.. oh, man. His night visit to Cap was all a sham. A cry for help. I can see that now.  
And his finger pointing at Max was just afterthought." Stoker stood, very agitatedly, and Victoria had to grab his arm to help him keep his balance. "Where is he now?" Mike asked urgently. "Do you see him anywhere?"  
Victoria's heart began to pound when Mike's new found worry began to fill her soul as well. "Uh,.. L-let me look..uhh.. The ballgame's over, Mike." Her voice trembled. "All the kids are going back to the Home from what I can see. Even Dad's closing up shop."

"You sure."

"Yes, straight back. I'm counting.... ten bikes moving across the field."

"We're one short."

"I subtracted Susan's bike."

"Think, Vickie! The team's got twelve kids on it. Oh, Lord.  
And I'll bet when we get to the Home that every bike will be there, but Jeremy's."

----------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Kids surrounding home plate in a Park.

Photo: Three inner city kids by a palm tree with a bike.

Photo: Mike Stoker looking stern.

Photo: Stoker and Victoria the psych, disagreeing.

Photo : Kids sitting on a park bench waiting turn at bat.

Photo: Jeremy Conners, as catcher, looking up.

Photo : Victoria outside, looking worried.  
**************************************** From : "patti keiper" Subject : The Pecking Order Date : Thu, 20 Feb 2003 06:45:13 +0000 It was shortly after the squad had gone 10-8 to Rampart with their newest patient.

"WwwooooHHHOOOOooooooo!" Chet war-whooped in the garage.

The resulting echo around the bay brought Cap out of his office on the run. "Kelly just what the heck is going on out here? Why'dya yell like that? Ya scared me half to death!"

"She's ok! She's ok!" Chet singsonged, dancing rings around Marco and his captain. He even picked up Boot's front feet and danced a jaunty jig with him.

Hank knew immediately what he was talking about.  
"Oh, the kid call." he said drawly. Then his face picked up. "Glad to hear it turned out all right, pal." and he started back to the mounting paperwork on his desk. He immediately about faced and asked. "Just uh.  
one thing... What was wrong with her? I didn't quite get all that paramedic stuff over the HT."

"A COPD case, Cap. That little girl had asthma so bad her lungs almost sealed off. Gage and DeSoto managed to locate her inhaler and find out who she was in time to use it on her. And poof! They had an instant cure for a potential killer annnddd,.. It's another kid save in the bag for the magic dream team! That's what? Twenty kid calls in a row, no losses? That run was a thing of beauty!" Chet celebrated.

"Huh.. Imagine that." And Cap started walking back once more towards his office.

"I'm telling ya, Cap.." Chet called out after him. "You should start taking some of those auxillary courses the chief makes us take for us guys who work with the medics.."  
He shouted when Cap's back totally disappeared. "You might enjoy learning something!!" he grinned jubilantly.

"Uh oh...." Marco trickled to his engine mate. "Now you did it.."

Cap suddenly reappeared and glared at Kelly pointing the all mighty, much afeared finger right at his face.

Chet cringed, stooped, and instantly picked up Boot as a security shield.

"Are you saying that I know nothing about my job, Kelly?"

"No, Cap, I.... I..." Kelly stammered. " I...meant about all that medic stuff..heh... I....I.. just thought that you might want to.... educate yourself more on all that medical jargon that goes on over the biophone between the squad and Rampart by taking the same classes that, uh.... we...." he voice tapered off limply.

"That's sound advice there, Kelly. But I think you may be just a bit ahead of yourself in the hierarchy.  
Now, get THIS advice from ME. I know it will behoove you to educate yourSELF on just exactly what the rank of CAPTAIN means."

Kelly winced at the word "captain" and thereafter, at every repeating of the word. He shrank smaller and smaller behind Boot's back, whom he held near to his face for dear life.

"Especially if that same CAPTAIN holds a vote on whether or not a mere regular time firemen, YOU,  
will ultimately get Stoker's job on the engine until he returns .." Cap's voice had been rising higher and higher and louder and louder until even the unflappable Boot in Chet's arms started to whine. "Is that clear?!" Cap boomed at the curly haired irishman.

"As crystal, Cap..." and Chet tried to chuckle weakily.

Hank held Kelly's eye in a scathing glare for almost a full ten seconds. Then he looked away and one hand snaked up from his hips to scratch Boot on the head in apology for scaring him while he dressed down an underling. "And put Boot down pronto."

"Yes, sir.. Right away, sir.." Kelly set Boot slowly down on the floor and smoothed out his coat without daring to look away from Cap's disapproving stare.

The shaggy dog immediately skittered out of Chet's reach, all four sets of claws scrambling on the cement floor in his haste to get away from the currently Hank hexed fireman.

"Next time.. take it like a man, Kelly. Dogless!"

"Right, Cap. Thank you, Cap. Anything you say, Cap.."  
Kelly kept on saying obeisances, withdrawing slowly,  
until his back impacted the kitchen door. Then he hastily stumbled and bolted through the door for the sheltering illusion of the newspaper and the bodily comfort of the cushy leather couch.

Marco had been quietly watching the whole fiasco the entire time. He was nonplussed and relaxed with his arms comfortably folded over each other. "He's right you know."

Cap's iron glare shattered into one of weariness and he admitted. "I know that... I just wanted to vent on somebody. And he was the best target.  
The fire investigation's not going anywhere and it's eating at me, Lopez."

"I can tell. You chewed up Chet and spit him out pretty good there." he said, cracking a polishing towel at the engine's side panel loudly to make a point.

It was Cap's turn to wince. Hank immediately looked remorseful and bit his lip. "Maybe I should go in there and apologize to him....ya think?"

Marco stopped Cap before he got two paces.  
"Uh,,..I'd... wait a while for the effect to sink in first if I were you."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Marco.." Cap said blankly..

"Well, Cap, it's like this.." Lopez said thinking while he absently polished the same spot on the engine that he had just shined a few moments before. "That was the first time I've ever seen Chet cower sincerely at one of your dressing downs since Johnny became a medic."

"Really?" said Hank, straightening with pride. Then he lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, glancing towards the kitchen to make sure Chet didn't overhear. "I've been watching McConike..Trying to ......imitate him. " he said, gesturing thinking fingers to the air before rubbing his lips thoughtfully. "That, what you just witnessed,  
was how he used to ream MY rear way back then."

"Oh, I see. Displacement of aggression." Lopez quipped as he picked a new spot to polish on the engine chrome. "Turning full circle.. Maybe even.  
disassociated revenge.. Clever.. Good way to deal with your burning hat/inspection day phobia."

Cap narrowed his eyes at Marco. "Lopez, stick to being a fireman. Somehow hearing Freudianisms coming from a man from south of the border just doesn't work for me.." Cap muttered. Then he retreated to the inbox work load that seemed only to have piled higher during the minutes he had procrastinated while blowing up at Kelly.

Marco blinked several times, then he self-  
consciously peered at his reflection in the engine's side view mirror, trying to see what Cap was talking about. He saw Boot regarding him closely. "Hey boy. Do you think my growing a goutee' will help people start to take me more seriously?" he asked the attentive mutt while he pushed out his chin in an experiment.

Boot tipped his head to a funny angle and whined a doggy noise of puzzlement.

-------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap dressing down Chet Kelly who's cowering behind Boot in his arms.

Photo : Cap's chew butt glare in closeup.

Photo : Marco, smiling and circumspect through the squad's open window.

Photo : Boot, barking into the acknowledging mike.

******************************* Date: Thu, 20 Feb 2003 13:28:08 -0800 (PST) From: "Sam Iam" Subject: Kid Talk

---------------------------------------------

"And again......." Mike Morton ordered.

Susan Jordan took in an even deeper breath than before as the dark skinned intern listened to her chest with his stethoscope. "How am I doing now, doc?" she said breathlessly afterwards.

"Uh..hmph." Morton grunted. "Sounds like they're going to have to be removed right away..." he said.

Susan's eyes got as big as saucers in concern where she sat upright on the treatment room gurney, but that change made Roy and Johnny's little blond haired patient seem even cuter than a button.

"Doc.."Johnny warned with a grin and with his voice, smacking the young doctor's arm with back of his hand. "Quit teasing her."

"hmm? Oh! oh. oh.. I wasn't talking about your lungs, Susan. Sorry... I meant these.." he said tapping her hanging IV and the flowing O2 cannula she still wore in her nose. "Actually, things sound really good now. The bronchospasms seem to have dissipated completely."

"Finally..." Susan said as Dixie moved on Morton's nod to free the little girl from her tubes. "I hate it when that happens. I feel like a beached sperm whale the whole time."

Morton gave another grunt, then asked. "Do you usually get your asthma attacks when you exert-  
I mean run around or ride your bike ever?"

"No.." Susan said. "Not ever."

"Well, what do you think triggered it today?"  
Roy asked the child from where he leaned near the exam room door still holding his walkie talkie in his hand.

"I don't know.." Susan said evasively. "Maybe because I got real mad I guess.."

"Mad about what?" Dr. Morton asked gently as he helped her put on her windbreaker that Roy had found in the park before the trip in.

Susan zipped her lips shut and dropped her head and watched as Dix secured a bandaid on her hand where the IV had been. Then she shot an uncomfortable glance up at Morton, Johnny and Roy. "It's a secret. A girl's one." she declared with defiance, wrinkling her nose as Dixie took off the cannula from around her face.

"Oh, I see." Nurse McCall said, fighting a smile.  
"Well," she sighed expansively.. "If you gentlemen would excuse us for a moment. Us girls are gonna talk privately together, if you catch my drift.."

All three men in the room suddenly caught on and hastened to make themselves scarce. Gage fumbled with gathering up the portable EKG monitor while Roy grabbed the small oxygen tank from the foot of the gurney, handing off Johnny's helmet to him as he struggled through the door with his load. Morton helped the paramedics make their exit by holding the door open for them. The paramedics and doctor all waved at the scowling child as they left.

"Take care Susan. Coach Stoker sends his best to ya.. Ahh! Oops. heh." Gage said sheepishly as the door nearly squashed him.

Soon, nurse and girl were alone.

-  
Johnny made immediate tracks to the water fountain along the wall, against which he piled the medical gear. Morton followed, looking to learn more from the medics before they had to leave.

"Here, hold this.." Gage said to Roy, shoving his helmet into Roy's stomach.

Being ticklish, Roy grabbed it without thinking. Then he made a face when he realized that Johnny had outsmarted him in the helmet carrying game. Having no better way to carry the extra item, he parked his own back onto his head with a frown.

Gage smirked in triumph and he took a long pull from the icy water stream dancing in front of his nose. "I'm just too fast for ya, Roy. Someday, you'll learn." he chuckled.

Mike Morton cleared his throat. "Fun and games over yet?"

Roy and Johnny's grins fell away they both slipped into professional mode. "Sure doc." Roy nodded.  
"Well, uh.. it happened pretty much as Susan said it did. She felt her chest getting tight and she just crawled away from the game and trying to will it away by resting under a shade tree. Only her usual trick didn't work."

"Oh? Didn't she have her inhaler with her?"

"That's just it, doc." Johnny said wiping his mouth free of water droplets. "We think she doesn't like the notion of needing one. Stoker had to scout around a baseball infield before he located it for us."

"Thanks. That'll help me figure out what to tell the case worker when she gets here for post visit instructions. Oh, yeah... How's Engineer Stoker doing? I haven't seen him since the night you fellas brought him in."

"Stoker?" Johnny said. "He's doing fine. Though I do wish I knew more details about his eyesight prognosis, doc. He's clamming up about it."

"Nice try Gage. But I can't tell ya anything."

DeSoto lifted his head.  
"Please, Doctor Morton. Y- You don't have to give us much. I-it would really mean a lot to Johnny and me and the rest of the guys if we had something substantial to go on." Roy pleaded.

"All right, all right!" Morton said holding up his hands in surrender. "I can tell you this much.."  
he said, beckoning a come closer finger.

Roy and Johnny leaned in nearer with side long glances at the people passing in the halls and then confidentially, at each other.

Mike Morton whispered. "Nothing he's going to face,.....will be bad news.." And then the young African American doctor was off down the corridor like a shot.. "See ya later, boys!" he called out as he rapidly departed.

Gage's mouth flopped open in wide disappointment and he bellowed, "Oh, come on, doc. That's not fair.  
You could have given us more than that...!!"

Morton shrugged hands and shoulders as he rounded the bend, "Can't.." he replied tartly amused and pantomimed a zipper shutting firmly across his lips and made good his escape.

Johnny was stuck looking at the place where he had last seen Morton's white tunic-ed back, gaping like a fish.

Roy leaned on the wall and crossed his elbows over one another with a mystified grin. "I'd say Morton beat you at your own game, Johnny.  
He's even faster on the draw than you are."

"Would you just shut up.. And carry those two helmets like a man, you look ridiculous wearing one in the hospital like that." And he swiped Roy's headgear off his partner's head, thrusting it at him.

Roy suddenly snatched up the gear boxes and rabbit dashed for the supply desk. "Ha! You touched it last.." he teased and got out of range quickly before Gage realized that he'd been had yet again while still holding the "ball." "And that's a tag back. So accept the full consequences.... like a man.." he smiled.

"Hey!.. You'd kick a guy when he's down?!"  
Gage shouted after him.

"Sure, why not? You aren't down, you're just a little stung for being so cleverly outsmarted,  
that's all." Roy said, pouring himself and Johnny some coffee from Dixie's warming pot.

It took a full minute for Johnny to figure out how to carry all the equipment, his talkie, AND two helmets. He nearly dropped his run slate. Finally, Gage got a handle on his ungainly load and he let loose a long suffering groan, trudging slowly after him. "Thanks, pal.." he said sarcastically from behind a wall of gear.

"No problem, Junior.. And remind me to thank Kelly for the Helmet Game idea when we get back. I think we're really going to have fun with it ."

"Speak for yourself.." Johnny grumbled as he set all the gear and hats onto the desk in front of him.

"Here.."

"What?!" Johnny snapped. He felt a prod and looked down to see a coffee cup nudging his light blue shirt.

"You're gonna get thirsty lugging all that."

"You're all heart.." Gage said, snatching the cup from Roy gruffly.

"It's in my nature." Roy replied, draining his own in two swallows.

----------------------------------------------------

Dixie had finished getting Susan set for discharge from the ER and then she got her into her jeans and shoes to go along with the windbreaker.

The blond haired girl had jumped down from the gurney to go wait for her ride in the waiting room,  
when Dix said. "Hang on a minute there, young lady.. You forgot this.." she said, holding out the Albuterol inhaler Roy and Johnny had said was hers.

"Oh, that ol thing.. You can have it. I don't want it.."

"Listen, sweety. That "old thing" saved your life this afternoon. Now I think you owe it to your personal counselor to at least be cordial enough to have it on your person for the next time you get into the weeds. Don't you think?" she said,  
lifting Susan's chin gently by the chin.

"I guess.." The girl said glumly, taking it reluctantly from Dixie's hand.

"Here. Have a seat back up." Dixie said, patting the gurney and the sheets lying rumpled there.  
She surprised the unhappy child by hopping up onto the gurney too, taking her into her arms in a mothering hug.

Susan relaxed immediately and almost started to cry because it felt so good to be held.

Dixie sensed the child's fragile state, but she went on. "Now.. let's have that woman to woman talk before you have to go. I did hold up my part of the bargain by shooing all the men out of the room.."

"You did.." she sighed. "Guess I have to tell you then, huh?"

"Yep." Dixie said, unwrapping her arms from their hug to straighten a messy curl back to its usual place behind Susan's ear.

Susan took a deep breath in, fiddling with the silver inhaler in her lap, before saying, "Jeremy Conners said that he was going to make sure no more buildings,  
like the one that killed his dad, stayed standing anymore.  
I got really mad because he said he wasn't sorry for the one that hurt Coach."

Dixie blinked a bit at that, frowning. "Just what do you mean by that Susan..?" she whispered, making sure her voice stayed calm even as the rest of her filled with a sudden sick dread.

"Don't you get it? Jeremy's proving himself to the Skinheads Gang. He's trying to be picked to be their next firestarter ace. They told him his dad won't rest peacefully until he burns someone else."

Dixie gasped in shock, but quickly hid it. Numbly, she felt the next words tumble out. "When, wait..it's Jeremy ...C-- Conners, isn't it?"

"Uh huh.." she nodded, fiddling with the rings on Dixie's elegant hands.

"When will Jeremy Conners, .....try it again?"

"When you can't see the moon anymore."

::Ohmyg*d..:: Dixie quailed mentally. ::That's tonight!::

-----------------------------------------------------

Mike Stoker and Victoria the psychologist were having dinner at the station with the rest of the gang. Cap had insisted she stay to shed some light on the kids in the Home.

"Now, Captain. You know I can't discuss details of my case minors with you.."

Cap inclined his head. "I'm not asking for their phone numbers, just a little insight or two. Look,  
it's costing the city thousands of dollars, if not millions, each time a derelict goes up in smoke.  
Now that translates into budget cuts, and eventually,  
those hit the fire department, and that effect,  
gets US where it hurts the most. Right in the pocket book.."

"Here, here.." said all the gang with derision.

Victoria sent down her fork and knife with a clatter and she looked up from her plate of roast chicken. "Oh, isn't that so noble of you."  
she said with heat. "Money first, eh? Well, your tactics stink. I'm not the bad guy here."

"No one's saying you are, Vic.." Mike Stoker insisted, rubbing an itch around his wrapped eyes.  
He had been silent through the whole debate but now he found he had to speak up for his crewmates.

"Oh, Mike, not you too." she said, surprised.

"Not me what? I'm looking out for everybody here.  
My crewmates, my team kids and you..believe it or not.."

"Well you have a strange way of showing it. " Victoria sighed. "...You're abandoning me.."

The rest of the firemen around the table hushed and fell silent. By now, no one was eating.

Victoria felt the weight of the quiet so she pegged Hank with a hurt stare. "Is this how you work your investigations, Captain Stanley? By first stuffing the witness you want with food and firehouse hospitality?"

Confused, Cap was mute.

Victoria went on. "I get it.. Then you all start hounding in slyly, hunting for protected information..."

Cap snapped out of his shock.  
"That's preposterous, Miss Vickie. And you know it.  
My men and--"

"Spare me the high and mighty ethics speech. I've heard it hundreds of times before from other firehouse captains."

Cap's mouth shut.

"Yes,..I've dealt with other pyro cases where a child has visited a favorite fire house in a sudden rush of guilt or daring. So I do know what you and your men are going through. And I do understand, Mike, the stress you must be feeling not knowing who for sure, was responsible for your accident."

"Vic.."

Victoria rose in her chair and all the other men rose too, in reflex. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I think we'd better conduct this fire investigation separately, Captain. I know we'll work better that way in the long run. And I promise you. I won't withhold any information that may prove a danger to either this crew, or anyone else. Good night. Mike, this was a truly memorable meal.."

None of the gang, including Roy and Johnny, knew how to take that remark.

Victoria left quickly for the garage bay and the rear door leading out to the back parking lot.

"I'm sorry, Cap. I don't know what's gotten into her. Let me at least try to talk some sense-- " he broke off hearing Vic struggle with the complicated deadbolt on the back door. "I'll be right back.." Mike Stoker got up and rushed out after her, using the willing Boot on a lead as a guide dog.

"H*ll hath no fury like a woman surrounded." Kelly improvised.

That earned him a glare from both Johnny and Roy.

No one felt like eating until Victoria was back at ease.

Mike's roast chicken and dumplings grew cold, while they waited for sounds of return from the back parking lot.

---------------------------------------------------------

Boot found Victoria out in front by the flagpole.  
He barked, letting Mike know the woman was near.

"Victoria, I'm sorry if you got a weird impression from us. It wasn't on purpose. The guys are still upset about me being blinded even though we all know I'm not going to stay this way. Just the fact that it happened irks them.  
And with firemen, that means turning over every stone until a solution can be found to prevent another accident like mine from ever happening again. Can you forgive me? And us?" he asked.

Victoria's face crinkled into a half smile when Mike held out two arms out in front of him like a child looking for reassurance. He was pointed in completely the wrong direction.

She spared him embarrassment by sidling into his arms and returning his friendly embrace. "Oh, all right. I just get so frustrated sometimes.." she sighed setting her chin onto his shoulder.

"So do I. Frequently."

The wind picked up just then, as the sun settled below the horizon, and the flags on their chains cracked suddenly, like a pistol shot. It startled Victoria who ducked out of the hug in reflex.

Even Boot scrambled away, pulling on the lead, nearly tipping Mike over in his haste to locate what had startled him.

Mike chuckled. "Hey, Boot. Settle down. It's just the flagpole, not an explosion. Come here, you.."

Victoria and Mike both crouched while they petted Boot briskly to end his fright. Then Stoker stood, drawing Vic upwards. "Here. This is my job, too, to man the flagpole. Help me untie this chain from around the hooks here and we'll take them down for the night. Then we can head back in. I'll reheat dinner in the oven." he grinned.

"You're so cute.." Vic said. "I can see why dad chose your field to run his concession stand in."

"What? You didn't chose my field because the kids I work with just happen to be the most troubled kids in the city?"

"Well,.. that too." she considered. "What's your reason for coaching them?"

"I like to keep all problems where I can see them. That way, I can figure out how to solve or help them eventually."

"Sound principle.. I think I like it.." Victoria declared as they fought with the large flags, folding them up in the rising breeze that was rushing in on the heels of the fast approaching dusk. "I, too, like to keep things well managed."

Mike grinned and took the folded bundles of silk from her arms. Then he put two fingers in between his lips.  
"*whistle* Come here, Boot. Come on."

The dog stopped his leg lifting "outing" around the red fire hydrant by the boulevard and returned, trailing his lead,  
to nuzzle Mike's hand. He then sat and dutifully accepted the flags Stoker draped over his back for the short trip he knew was necessary to carry them indoors.  
Victoria laughed. "What a good helper!" She said, petting him enthusiastically. Boot's tail thumped the flagpole with loud metallic pings in happiness as she scrubbed him behind the ears. "Boot's a real sweetheart. Had him long?"

"Nah, Boot's a stray. He was here for a few days two years ago, checking us out. Then.....Marco ...said he came back the night I was hurt, looking for me." Stoker said with some emotion.

Victoria took his hand. "Maybe he just likes to keep those down on their luck...... within sight.."

"Maybe. Come on." Mike said releasing her hand. " I'm hungry.."

Woof!

"And so's Boot." Stoker laughed. "Let's go inside. It's getting cold out here. The sooner I have some hot food in me, the better I'll feel."

"Maybe by then, Dad'll have found Jeremy.."

"Why's Old Ben getting involved? He should be resting."  
Stoker insisted.

"Dad thinks if he spends more time with the kids off duty,  
that he'll win their trust. He thinks afterwards, that maybe they'll stop stealing his popsicles."

"It'll never happen. Not in a million years. Kids are kids."

"I know that. And you know that. But Dad's like me, Mike.  
He's gotta try.."

"Let's hope between all of us, that the trying will be worth something."

"I'm sure it will be. Dad's almost a good a detective as he was a fireman in his day."

Stoker smiled, and let Boot show them the way through the side yard.

--------------------------------------------------------

Photo: John and Roy tussling over dinner in a pique.

Photo: A close up of a cute blond little girl.

Photo : Mike Stoker, manning the flagpole.

*  
From :"patti keiper" Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] One Dark Night.... Date :Fri, 21 Feb 2003 06:13:32 +0000 **Tandom post by Cassidy Meyers and Patti Keiper via Email Tennis.**

Maximillion and Jeremy Conners ran to the gap in the fence surrounding the old firehouse on 223rd street. In his hand, the red headed boy held two Coke bottles full of kerosene stuffed with dull cloth wicks.

"Are you sure you wanna go through wid this?" Max said. "I don't care what those gang sentries say. You don't have to do this.. It's craziness, man! What have you got to prove?"

Jeremy was bigger than his best friend and he took full advantage of it. He grabbed the dark boy's collar and yanked him close. "My dad's soul for one thing. My honor for another."  
he whimpered. Max was shocked to see his usually quiet buddy suddenly losing it like a baby. "I want to belong somewhere, Max.. " he sobbed."So bad I can taste it.. I had it once. The perfect family.. you know?"  
he choked. "Then one night, my dad...fell off the pole."  
His face twisted in anguish and Max could see rivulets of water streaming down Jeremy's freckled face.

"What? I don't understand."

"It happened right here, Max. Right here.. In this old worn out firehouse!! The earthquake made him slip and the fire after finished him..!" Jeremy shoved Maximillion away and scrambled through the rend he had made years ago in the fence line. "Dad! Dad!!" he screamed in grief and despair.. "I'm coming..!! Just like I promised. On your seventh anniversary..y..y...yy."

"Jer, no! Wait!" Max leaped to tackle the red haired boy, but missed, landing in a pile of dust. He coughed,  
frightened, as he watched Jeremy's striped shirt disappear into the bowels of the derelict station.

Maximillion froze when a rumble of motorcycles at the end of the deserted block drew his eyes away from the nightmarish scene he couldn't believe was happening.

It was the Skinhead Gang, officiating Jeremy Conners rite of passage.

Max wailed.."Jer! Come on!.. We can still get out of here before they find us!! Jer!"

But Jeremy Conners was long gone.

The boy ran through the familiar ruins with the ease of long practice to the brass pole still in place among the dusty bricks. He leaned up against it, wiping his tears away, and he called. "Benjamin.  
Are you here? It's seven o'clock. " he spoke to the dark room and the stillness amid the rubble. "I'm so glad you called me tonight. Now I have someone to play with.." he shouted, smiling through his tears. Conners reached down and found the old gas lantern he had recovered from his dad's collapsed office and he lit it with a match. "I'm over here. By the sliding pole.."

A sound of stumbling echoed around the gutted foundation of the old fire garage and all at once,  
Old Ben was there, leaning on a half buried stone wall for support. "Jeremy Conners..? Is that you, my boy? Heh. I brought a whole box of popsicles we can share together. Won't they go down good?"

"They sure will Ben.." Jeremy said, a slight grin showing on his face. "I got something for the both of us.." He held up the two Coke bottles full of lighter fluid. One in both hands. ::Dad, I'm coming...g..g:  
his mind whimpered.

"Sodas, eh? How nice of you to think of them. Just let me catch my breath first. Not easy moving around in here. Let me .....rest up a bit.. Then we can have those drinks.." he gasped, then Old Ben sat down on the rickety stairway littered with heavy timber and dead vegetation.

Jeremy was going to shift his bottles to his throwing hand when the other one lifted the lantern up so the old man could see to sit.  
A sudden, unfamiliar pang gripped him and soon after,  
the memory of his dad's death retreated and floated away..

"Ah, that's better, such a thoughtful young man.  
Now.. come sit beside me and we'll talk." Old Ben said, brushing off dust and brush from the step next to him. "Especially, about him.."

Jeremy's vacant expression...... changed.  
To one of profound sadness and grief. The bottles in his hand fell out of his grasp, rolling into a hole in the floor and out of sight. All thoughts of suicide in Jeremy evaporated and he seemed to lose years in age. "B-Ben, Is it true you knew m-my dad? Victoria said that you knew him."

"Eh? Come closer, Jeremy, so I can see you better. Come sit with me. Don't be afraid.  
I know it mustn't be easy for you to come here to the place where your dad met his end."

Just like that, Jeremy's strength crumbled and set down the heavy lantern, wilting in grief. "Oh, Ben...I miss him so much.." he sobbed.

The old man blinked and took the boy's head into his lap and stroked his hair lovingly. "I know you do, my boy. So do I. He was the best captain an old engineer like me, could ever have..."

-- -- -- -- -- --

Jeremy forgot time as he lost himself in the old pain again. Dimly, he was aware of Ben relating story after story about his father, each one more exciting and more captivating than the last, and he was aware of the gentle caring voice of the old man sounding very much like the way his dad's had, until full darkness had fallen.

A brass bell began to strike richly in the stillness,  
jolting Jeremy out of his foggy half sleep. "Ben?"

"It's all right, my boy.. Sort..of a surprise.  
I fixed up the old call bell again and rigged it to sound off the hour. It's ok. Rigged it to the city's board, too, just fer kicks... hehe hehe."

Jeremy froze when the bell stopped at eight.  
"Oh my g*d.." he whispered. "They're coming.."

"Who's coming, my boy..? I don't understand."  
said kind Old Ben.

"Them..! They've come to see if I have it done."  
Jeremy whispered in fear.

"Have what done?"

"This!...Here! Now!" said an angry voice. Older and very mad. Ben and Jeremy turned and saw him at the head of the collapsed stairs.

It was the Gang leader. "Well, well well, looks like our little stooge is gonna chicken out. Too bad. I kinda liked you, Red.. But now there's a price to pay for your miserable failure, isn't there, little boy..?" he sneered.

And he held up the two very familiar looking bottles.

"Where did you find those?" Conners gasped.

"Below.." he shrugged diffidently. "I figured, why waste a good thing?" he said evilly.

Jeremy ripped out of Old Ben's grasp and stood on shaky feet, not caring that his shoes filled with mud.

"Don't you hurt him. Please.. I've changed my mind.  
He's not the one, please!"

"He'll do.." said the leader. And he leaped back up through the hole in the roof he had come through. And the twisted teen began to sing..

"One dark night, when we were all in bed.  
Misses O'Leary.. lit a lantern in the shed.  
The cow kicked it over... She winked her eye and said.  
They'll be a hot time, in the old town............. "

And then he whispered a final word.. "*Tonight....*"

"no... NO ! Don't!!" Jeremy cried and in his terror,  
knocked over the forgotten lantern at his feet.

Its tumble smashed against the fallen bricks of the derelict firehouse landing and into the rich mat of dried sage and grass nestled there.

Fountains of flame sprouted up through the vegetation and a rising blaze caught and grew with frightening speed around Jeremy and Old Ben.

"Awww, looky that? Little Jeremy's a red cow.  
No, make that a yellow one.." chuckled the homicidal gang leader.

"What's happening?" cried the old man.

"We're being trapped! We've got to get out of here! Come on! I'll show you the best way out!" Jeremy said, pushing Ben before him towards the outside door he knew was in his dad's office.

Just like that, an explosion of fuel and fire dropped directly in their path from a hole in the ceiling. One of Jeremy's firebombs had been thrown, narrowly missing them.

A manic face peeked through it and the gang leader rolled his eyes with the sick pall of fascinated insanity.  
"Going somewhere? I do believe we have a false alarm...Please.. stay ..and warm yourselves by the fire.."

"Torch!!.. Don't do this!! It isn't right.." Jeremy gasped.

"You should have thought of that before you joined my little gang of horrors, Red."

Jeremy and Ben stumbled, but somehow, they made it around the new patch of twisting fire.

Echoey laughter swelled over the sound of the growing flames building higher in the ruin.

Coughing, choking, the old man and boy were slowly driven back by the intense heat of the fire eating the dry old bones of the station.

They fell back against something smooth, and cool.. "The pole! Ben, we've got to climb up."

"I can't.. I'm too....*cough* ...weak.."

"Come on, you've got to try..!"

"Wait.. Jeremy,.. the bell.." Ben exclaimed, his cataract cloudy eyes getting wider.

"What? You're not making any sense, Ben, just climb.. Pleas-se..." the boy sobbed pulling on Old Ben's arm where he lay against the fire pole.

"No, listen to me, boy. I know what I'm talking about..*choke* Get on my shoulders.."

"What?!"

"Just do it. I'm going to lift you up and you are going to ring the bell.. Just pull the string.  
L.A. will hear us. Remember, I repaired the network.."

Jeremy cried out as the old man shoved him up the pole. Inch by inch, the boy's fingers got closer to the satin rope. Then ...they.  
reached and Jeremy found that he had just enough strength to pull it down .

SMASH!!

A ball of fire landed against the wall in the pole space above his head, incinerating the bell's rope instantly.

"No, you don't! I like to see my burns through to completion if you don't mind." challenged Torch.

Screaming, Jeremy patted out the flames in both his and Ben's hair as they both tumbled back down to the stoney floor. Scrambling,  
Jeremy knelt by his friend's ear. "It's ok, it's ok,  
Ben, I put it out.. Get up.. Get up!.. I thought of something else.. You've got to make it to my dad's office. Get to the red door..It leads into the yard.. *gasp* Go, Ben, they'll find you...!"

"A fireman never leaves his v----" But Old Ben started coughing violently in the heavy smoke.

"Just go! Back the way we came.  
I'll try to draw him off!" Jeremy scrambled away from Ben and then back up the scalding brass pole. Half way up, he swung over to the flaming,  
disintegrating stairwell and up into the bunkloft at the top without a second glance back.

When Ben got his wind back, he opened his eyes. He found that Jeremy was no longer at his side. "Jeremy!" he called out.  
"Jeremy!"

Seconds later, the flames crawled too close for him to continue to look for the boy and Old Ben was forced to drag himself into the office despite what he wished.

Once, there, to his horror, he found that Jeremy's plan for quick escape, would never hold any water.

Torch had bolted the outer door with chains and padlocks.....from the inside.

Hot, breathless and scorched, the exhausted ex-firefighter began to pound frantically on the door but Old Ben soon blacked out onto the floor and his body rolled limply against the metal of the barricaded door.

--------------------------------------------

At L.A. headquarters, Sam Lanier saw a light go on that he hadn't seen in seven years.  
::What th? It's old station nine.:: He thought.  
::That's an in-house emergency signal coming from the mainpole's bell box..:

His mind flashed back to the night of the earthquake when a fire captain by the name of Conners had rung the very same bell ....for the last time.

By their own volition, his fingers toggled the tone call of the station nearest that area.

-  
##Station 51. Truck 127, Batallion 14. Automated Fire Call. 2049 East 223rd Street. Cross street, Wilmington Ave.  
2049 East 223rd Street. Cross street, Wilmington Ave.  
Time out : 18:26.## (Get where this is? :) )

"That's d*mned peculiar.." Cap exclaimed, recognizing the location. "Say Lopez, isn't that the firehouse that came down in the quake of--"

"Sure is, Cap.."

"Let's go.."

Victoria rose in her seat. "Oh, no. Not there."

"What's wrong, Vic? This is probably just a milk run. Sometimes the wires beneath the old buildings in that neighborhood, get cross connected and the random power surges do some pretty strange things." Stoker told her.

"No, no no. You don't understand. That's where Jeremy Conners' father died. Tonight is the seventh anniversary of his death.."

Mike Stoker whirled towards Victoria as the guys rolled out top speed in the engine and squad.

------------------------------------------------

Jeremy remembered leaving behind the fire and the heat. He only had focus enough, to find Torch.

Rats ran frantically across the floor of the second story bunkhouse and in many places, the floor was rotting and unsafe. But Jeremy knew where the solid timbers were and he leaped across to them nimbly.

He didn't speak, knowing that any noise from him could be lethal. Torch's personality always digressed far beyond sanity while he was attending a burn.

Soon, Jeremy reached the place he wanted. Bunk Ten, his father's. The mattress was gone, but the coils were still half woven into the bedframe.  
The boy quietly paced three floor boards at its foot,  
avoiding the fourth and leaped the rest of the way to the bed.

Determined, Jeremy got up on the rusty bed springs and started jumping up and down, cheering at the top of his lungs.

Soon, Torch's voice filtered through the dark.  
"What are you doing jumping for joy, kid? Don't you know that I'm going to finish y--"

"Yayyy! He's dead and I did it.." said Jeremy,  
fiercely, bouncing closer until he was at the foot of the bed nearest Torch. The whole time,  
Jeremy never ceased jumping.

"What?" Torch blinked, shifting a lit fire bottle into his other hand.

Jeremy felt his breath rattle thinly in his chest as he made his dry lips move.  
"That old man. I burned him. Burned him good..." he hissed, dropping to his hands and knees, to laugh openly.

That halted Torch, cold. His face fell from murderous intent to one of confusion.  
Then Torch's toothless face split into a wide grin that came slowly and he said. "Well, all right. Didn't know you had it in you, Red." and he blew out the fire bomb in his grip.

Jeremy watched the rebel walk closer across the squeaking fungus ridden boards,  
nearer and nearer to bed number ten.

"Well, this changes everything, Red. Welcome to the gang. You passed my test. Put it there, man..." Torch said, taking another step forward towards Jeremy on the bedsprings.

The boy looked up and saw a leather glove approaching,  
offering a hand shake to him just inches away from his face.

SNAP!!

The fourth floor board snapped and gave way, dropping Torch into the heart of the blazing inferno roaring through the main garage below. The flames' fury cut off any possible sound he could have made while falling, instantly.

Jeremy's face suddenly twisted and his eyes watered with hot tears, completely blinding him. He felt a moan form in his throat, but the boy who was Jeremy Conners no longer cared about communicating. Somewhere deep inside he was deathly afraid that he no longer had the will to try and make it back down to Old Ben in the Cap's office.

Heart and mind in pain, Jeremy collapsed on the wired bedframe, begging his memory to offer up the familiar image of his father,  
Captain Conners, before it was too late.

"Dad, " he sighed.. "..get me out of here....." Jeremy shivered and then his head began to sink lower and lower from the dwindling supply of breathable air.

The angry fire that had killed Torch, the gang leader,  
rose through the hole in the floor, rearing up over the bed frame where Jeremy Conners had suddenly fallen very still.

-----------------------------------------------

"Marco, Charlie, Roy, John, string two inch and a halfs and cover the west side. And be careful. Looks like another gang related torch job. There's a Harley in front." Cap shouted.

Then he lifted his HT.##L.A. we have a fully involved brick and wood two story structure. Advise the power company to kill the electricity to our one block area.##

"Really?" Gage said as he hurried by.

Cap grinned. "Yeah, saw a spark on the power pole over there. Looks like some half wit's jury rigged a line into the old firehouse itself. Gage spread the word. I want everyone in full SCBA."

"Right, Cap."

Hank Stanley saw the mess the blaze had already made of the old gallant fire station. Already the main tower was crumbling to pieces in a rain of ash and sparks. Again his HT met his mouth,  
##Truck 127, cover the south side. Protect that direct exposure. Battalion Fourteen. Cover the cross street drive and set up your command post there.##

Hank heard the hail of 10-4's reply back to his orders.

Then he saw a very quiet Chet standing in front of the pumper panel off Old Red. "Well, pal. Here's your chance to shine.. Think you remember everything?"

Chet was watching the fire with a fascinated horror.  
"I sure do. Mike didn't let me sleep last night at all 'cause he was quizzing me so hard. "

"All right, then. Have at it. Look sharp for problem spots. Oh, and for look for the arsonist,  
too. They usually panic and bail out in the worst possible place for it."

Chet nodded numbly. Then he turned back to his chemical dials and water guages. "Man, this is humbling.. " he said to himself. "I literally have the lives of the hose team crew in my hands.."

"Yeah, well don't let that get to your head, Chet.."  
Roy grinned, jogging by with the K-12. The blond haired fireman already had on his air bottle.

"Believe me, I have a healthy respect for Stoker's position from here on out."

Roy chuckled. Then he shouted.  
"Cap!"

"Yeah..."

"Johnny and I are going in through that red door right there. Looks like the fire hasn't broken through to that room yet.."

Cap eyeballed the door Roy was pointing to.

"Sounds like a plan.. Good spot to start gutting the building. Have at it." he nodded.

Roy waved at Johnny to follow him up with Marco on a covering hose and he put on his mask.

"This looks good.." he mumbled as he set the blade into the door about waist high. He cut around the horizontal bar, creating a football sized hole in under a minute.  
Then he reached inside and tried to lift the door's latch from the interior. It didn't budge.

Grunting, he took off his glove and tried again, feeling around for the reason why his cutting didn't work. He shifted around to use his other hand when he was shocked to find a smear of red on his skin.. ::That's blood..:: He pulled off his mask and peered through the window.  
"Hey, is anybody in there?!" He looked down and saw Old Ben lying on the ground. He had bloodied his hands trying to claw his way to air. "Marco, Johnny! On the double. We've a victim in here!!"

Marco dropped the hose and came pelting with the crowbar..

-  
Victoria took full advantage of Mike's status as a firefighter to get under the fire lines nearest the scene. She pulled up her green Matador on a safe part of the street and quickly led Stoker to his captain's side.

Barking, Boot also jumped out of the car's open window and ran with them.

Mike Stoker immediately told Victoria to leave Boot with Hank and to wait by the car for news of Jeremy.

"But.."

"It's too dangerous. You don't know how to keep safe this close to a fire."

"Boot can show me h--"

"No he can't. He'll be working, watching the guys in case they run into trouble. He's also on alert for any potential victims shouting from the windows. "

"But Jeremy's still in there!" she wailed.

"Hey, now. We don't know that for a fact." Mike said firmly.

Just then, Boot bounded across the burning boards and hissing water puddles left over from Truck 127's water shield, making a beeline for Roy's hacked open door.

"They've found someone!!" Victoria shouted.

Mike had the good sense to keep his grip tight on her shoulders because soon after,  
she fought him. "It's my father, Mike! Oh my G*d!"

"Stay put, Vic. They'll be bringing him here."

Sure enough, Johnny and Roy ran with Old Ben, arm-draped between them, towards the rescue squad.

"They're coming!" Vic said.

Mike shouted. "Cap!!.. Roy and Johnny got a man out of there.."

Cap left his place by the engine and grabbed the medical gear and 02 tank from the squad's hold.

Gage looked up as he carefully lowered Old Ben to the ground. "Thanks, Cap. We can take it from here."

"Keep me posted.." And Hank disappeared into the darkness.

Vic tore away from Mike and hurried to Ben's side. "How is he? Oh, please.." she sobbed, afraid to touch him.

"He's gonna be fine. Looks like all he needs is some 02." Roy said.

Old Ben started to moan as the fresh air outside revived him. "Get...Jer--"

"What?" Johnny asked Ben. "Now just lie still." he ordered. But Ben wouldn't.  
He still seemed to be struggling to talk.  
Gage bent close to make out Ben's words. "Just keeping breathing in this oxygen..It'll help ya focus. Now.. what is it that's so important to tell us?"

Ben fought Gage's hands, shoving the mask aside with bloody fingers. "Get him out.. Up....pole.." he gasped.

"Ok, ok, ok.. Just lie back down and take it easy... Cap!!" Johnny hollered.  
"We've got another victim in there.. This man says he's on the second floor."

"I'm on it.." And Hank waved two from Truck 127's crew to gear up for an exploratory.

Just then the whole front of the firehouse came tumbling down towards the row of water spraying firetrucks and Victoria.

A loose stone struck her and she went down.

"Victoria??" Roy shouted. Johnny and Roy rushed over to check her out as fast as they could.

Chet could only watch hopelessly.

"What happened?" Mike demanded.

"Wall collapse. Victoria took a brick to the side of her head." Roy said.

"She ok?"

"We don't know yet.."

Then there was no more time for words.  
Both medics lost themselves in the care of their victims and soon, Mike was tuned out altogether.

"Oh, Jeremy..." Mike fretted. Then, on a thought, he whistled.

Boot came running, instantly.

Pulling a lead from his pants pocket, Mike attached it to his collar and he turned his bandaged eyes towards the burning building.  
"Boot...." he said, taking a tight grip on the leash.. "Seek. Find him. He's in the fire.."

Boot dashed forward, pulling Mike effortlessly with him.

Stoker counted on the dust and smoke from the fire and the cover of night to conceal his entry into the building fire.

His gamble worked. No one saw him go inside.

"Boot!" he coughed. "Find him.. Upstairs.."

Loud crackles from the burning timbers and their self destruction's rumble guided Mike on where not to step. He relied on the feel of Boot's leash on his arm to point out the safest way.

Mike slowly became aware of an intense almost surrealistic bright orange glow. ::The fire. I can see it!:: Stoker began to claw off his eye wraps as Boot led him deeper into the open garage and to the stairwell. He whined to his left suddenly and immediately turned away.

Mike covered his nose. He knew the smell of a charred body when he encountered one.  
"oh, please, no.." he sighed.

But Boot was still pulling him strongly onwards.  
::Maybe that corpse back there, was the arsonist.::

Stoker's spirits raised. "I am in so much trouble.."  
he mumbled.

The last of the bandages fell away and the bright stabbing orange light pierced deep into his retinas, making his barely healed eyes, water.  
"This light..My G*d. It's bright enough for me to see by!"

Soon, he was wiping away the tears as perfectly clear, fire illuminated vision returned."Boot, double time.." he ordered.

His shoe hit the first stair.

By some miracle, the front wall's collapse hadn't crushed the stairwell and its bulk had snuffed out a great deal of the fire in that area. Mike followed Boot into the blackness at the top, where Stoker froze in his tracks. Bright sparklets of light lanced into his field of vision. ::Deprivation.  
I still don't have my night vision back. I'm gonna have to go back or risk getting trapped up here.::

But Boot's leash went tell-taley slack and Mike heard Boot begin to bark frantically from just ahead of him.

Stoker reached out and his hand struck the hard metal coils of a gutted bunk .. and..a leg..

"Jeremy??!"

A small boy's moan greeted him.

Mike wasted no time and he gathered up the boy into his arms and then slid him head first over a shoulder. Then Mike said, "Boot. Out. Go outside. Go..go.. go.."

Stoker's fear lessened when the bright glow of the main fire granted him sight once more.

Near the outer door, Mike was met by an angry team of county firefighters. "Hey.. just what the h*ll do you think you're doing??" one of them shouted through his airmask.

"Take him.. Sorry. I'm with 51's. I heard him calling for help." he lied. "I'm Mike Stoker."

"Yeah, I know who you are.." said the bigger one. "Is he breathing?"

"Yeah.."

Mike let the firemen take Jeremy and used the same route he had taken before with Boot to return to the fireline. As he walked away from the fire,  
Mike was amazed to find that his watery vision didn't entirely disappear. In fact, as the chill air cooled him, it got better.

The first clear sight he saw, was Chet, sweating over the chem panel on the engine.  
And then he saw the night stars.

Smiling, Stoker reached down and petted Boot's sooty back in sheer joy. "Good dog.. good dog.... What a way to work.. Good boy.."

As Mike suspected, no one else knew what he had done. The two men from 127 who had dropped off Jeremy near the squad, had been, luckily, mutually decided to hustle back to their fire detail instead of reporting Stoker to anyone.  
Mike released Boot from his lead and whispered.  
"Go to Cap, boy.. Move it.."

He watched the valiant dog rejoin Hank at full tilt.

Then he knelt down quietly by Johnny, who was working on Victoria, who was just coming to.  
"Relax, Vic." Mike soothed. "Your bump doesn't ...look... too bad."

That made Gage glance up from the BP he was taking on her. Johnny did a double take when he saw that Mike was bandage-less.. and seeing..

"Mike!" he said happily. "You can see.."  
Then Gage's face flickered between watchfulness over Vic's changing status and curiosity over Mike's. "Hang- hang on there. I'll be right with you."

"No rush.. I feel fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah.."

"No flashes or..spots ..or anything like that?"

"Nope..None."

"Ok. Good... All right....." Gage forced himself to stop staring at the relieved tears flowing unabashed down Mike's face. "Listen, Mike.. uh, I'm dying of curiosity to see how the boy's doing. Could you go over there and just .. you know check on him for me? It's bugging me 'cause Roy hasn't said much about him yet."

Stoker patted Johnny on the shoulder, "Gladly."

As Mike crossed the short distance to where Ben and Roy and Jeremy were, he dried his cheeks on a sleeve.

Then he couldn't resist.  
"Nice guage work, Chet.... Looks .....like your psi pressure's perfect..."

Mike ambled nonchalantly on past him. Kelly just about did arabian handsprings at the sight of Mike walking, free of Boot, eagle eyeing everything around him.

"WahhhHHhooooo Stoker.. All rightt!!!! Man, this is great.. Your eyes are-- Wait a minute, why am I cheering? I'm gonna get demoted now.."

"You can live with it.."

"Just as long as you can, pal.." Kelly fired back.  
"I'm beginning to fall in love with this job, Stoker.  
I may test out with ya in the fall. May the best man win.... WahhhhHHHhhoooo." he howled again.

This time half a dozen firefighters rubber necked in their direction and Mike only shrugged, making crazy signs with a finger circling his ear and then a hooking thumb at Kelly, when Chet wasn't looking.

Mercifully, Chet never caught on to why the other men were laughing.

Mike Stoker entered the place where the triage lights had been set up above Roy and his victims.

He approached his coworker, keen on surprising him with his Lazarus back from the blind routine when something about DeSoto's body english stopped him.

He set a hand on Roy's shoulder. "Roy, how's Jeremy doing?"

Roy looked up and reacted pretty much as Johnny had about his eyes. But Stoker never saw it.

His eyes were locked on Jeremy's face.

The boy was pink, breathing well under an 02 mask,  
and his skin was mercifully whole.

But two hideous sockets existed where the boy's eyes had once been. They had completely boiled away from the heat of the burning fire.

DeSoto heard Stoker's gasp of horror.  
"Mike, he's not in any pain. I've given him a pain med. But, I'm afraid he'll never s--"  
and DeSoto's voice broke. " see.. again.."  
He studied his hands and the spent MS syringe resting there without being aware of it.

"Not ever?"

Roy slowly shook his head without meeting his eyes.

Stoker's face filled with salty wetness and he bent low over his favorite project kid's drugged form, and cried until the ambulance came.

Old Ben, seated on the squad's bumper in a cannula and blanket, set a bandaged hand on Mike's shoulder in wordless understanding.

-  
It was another perfect sunny summer day at the McGregor ballpark and Mike Stoker and Victoria and Susan Jordan and Maxilliam and Old Ben were at their usual places around the diamond.

Jeremy Conners was sitting on Mike Stoker's lap getting a verbal play by play of the game,  
directly from his favorite coach.

"Hey Coach.." Jeremy said, sucking on his popsicle and scratching an itch under his eye wraps.

"Yeah, Champ?"

"Are you sure the guys aren't missing Boot at all? I mean he makes a swell guide dog and stuff, but Boot's a fireman just like d--"  
his voice trailed away.

"Yeah, he is a pretty good one. " Mike studied Jeremy's hanging head. "It's ok. It's all right to be sad about your father and what happened to that old firehouse. But that's the funny thing about living. Life always changes. And there's nothing in the world we can do about it... ..except..."

Jeremy's face cracked a smile and he lifted a hand full of slender sticks. "...except throw popsicles sticks at it.. Yyeeahhhhhhhh!" and the red haired boy crowed at the top of his lungs, hurtling his wooden missiles down on the players below.

He started to laugh when Tiny and Cruz, standing near the bleachers, complained verbally about the rain of litter landing on them.

But, to themselves, the project kids made it a point not to grumble too much.

Mike and Victoria, on either side of the happy little boy, smiled broadly at Jeremy, muttering in conspiracy about what they could throw next.

And behind his back, the two adults timidly joined affectionate hands.

Not missing a beat, Victoria spoke up. "Don't fret about the guys missing Boot, Jer.  
Because Boot's a free spirit. He wouldn't've stayed at 51's for long anyway. He always gravitates to those who need him the most Mike tells me. And you certainly fit his bill young man.."

Jeremy giggled when she tickled his nose.

She went on with a small smile. "Nah, I think Boot the wanderer's finally found a home.."

"You know what, guys?" Jeremy asked,  
angling his head up.

"What..?" Both Mike Stoker and Victoria asked together.  
"I think I'm finally home, too. "

FIN :)

Season One, Episode Four- Within Sight

--------------------------------

Photo : Painting of Jeremy in anguish.

Photo : Painting of a sorrowful Maximillion.

Photo : Marco fighting a night indoor blaze with hose and SCBA mask.

Photo : Johnny trying to hear Ben speaking.

Photo : Multiple firemen breaking into a secured building.

Photo : Victoria lying injured, on cannula with wrapped head.

Photo : Mike Stoker smiling broadly.

Photo : Kids playing at McGregor Park.

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